These Daydreams, Okay!
by Mel like Mellow
Summary: Bra/Goten, post-GT. "Goten could recall how she – unbeknownst to everyone else – could really get under his skin without even trying. Being around her felt like walking on pins and needles, he was never sure what to do with her."
1. Chapter 1: Away!

**Author's Note: **Yeah, I'm so incredibly effing rusty. This endeavor should prove to be QUITE the comedy. Whoever's reading, I hope you enjoy. There will be future chapters. It just may take a bit in between work, class, and spurts of inspiration. Speaking of inspiration, right now the title and chapter titles come from the song "Cassius" by Foals. It's just what I was listening to when I wrote this and they make for neat titles. :P

I have to say I don't know where the sudden burst of creativity came from. I just sat down today and decided to write a Bra/Goten fanfic. Go figure, right? They say if you love something, set it free, and if it was meant to be, it'll come back to you. Does that go for fandom too? ...Or is that just creepy? ... Right, so, only warning is that I throw around the "F" bomb alot, because it makes my characters feel like badasses. Now that the world isn't in peril, what ELSE are they gonna do?

**These Daydreams, Okay**

_Chapter 1: Away!_

It was unquestionable that the beginning of summer was upon the Satan City dwellers, the sun keeping its place high in the sky for hours on end. Life and laughter was brimming in the city, spilling into the streets and shops and bursting out of the homes. The brilliant warmth radiated down on the grounds of the Capsule Corp. headquarters, as fierce grunts and hollers sounded from within the protective walls surrounding, and sparks of light and low blasts lit up and shook the earth simultaneously. Streaks of black and lavender darted several feet above the grounds, jetting over the rooftop of the establishment, until finally the black stream jolted to a halt against a towering palm.

Son Goten's zooming body collided into the trunk, and his face screwed up in agony. "Fuck, man!" He groaned aloud, allowing his body to slowly slide down to the base. "A fucking tree, dude?"

Trunks' laughter echoed off the exterior of the dome-shaped building as he lowered himself to the ground. He pushed his lavender hair from his sweaty forehead and offered an apologetic smirk and a hand to his befallen friend. "Sorry, man, but do I look like the gardener? And it's not like I'm going to aim for my mom's house or my dad's grav machine."

"See," Goten grunted as Trunks helped him to his feet, "this is why I prefer the boonies, man. No … infrastructural issues." A wary glance was cast over his shoulder to the gravitational machine and again to the Briefs' home.

"Still trees. And, well, can't stray far from home these days," Trunks sighed, and he made his way for one of the loungers placed out on the patio. He collapsed down onto it, taking the towel draped across it and laying it over his shoulders.

The disheartened sentiment was sympathized with on Goten's part, as he plopped down across from his long-time friend and offered him a bottle of water from the patio table. "That's what you get for being a big-shot now, business man," he joked in an attempt to alleviate the mood. Trunks was not a fan of Goten's humor, and he merely cast a silent look his comrade's way.

Over the last couple of years, Trunks had become immersed in the family business; grooming to become the next proper heir to the Capsule Corporation. Trunks was really, truly a 'business man', having spent a majority of those years engaged in seminars and conferences and meetings, decked out in suits, ties, and fine Italian leather shoes. Meanwhile, Goten had been living a life of leisure on the outskirts of Satan City, his grandfather's dwindling fortune and offerings from his brother keeping his bills paid and his mother keeping food on his plate and clothes on his back. Short-lived jobs in waiting, customer service, and a brief (yet amusing) stint in telemarketing cropped up every now and then, but in the end he had managed to fuck all of them up somehow.

Goten reflected on these facts, and he and Trunks' diminished time together as of late, and a sinking feeling pulled his stomach down.

_Here I am, simultaneously missing my best friend and writhing in envy of him. Kudos, _he thought darkly to himself.

"You know I didn't mean it bad, dude," Goten groaned now, the back of his hand rubbing at his eyes. "Besides, my mom wishes I could be half as 'motivated' and 'successful' as you."

Trunks fell back on the lounger, stretching his arms up above his head. "Great, I'd love to feel bad for you, now. My mom's told you and I've told you, Goten, you can work for—"

"Not. Happening," Goten's reply came cut and dry. The offer had been laid out on the table on numerous occasions, and yet Goten entertained no notion of accepting it. He knew that it would not play out in anyone's best interest. "Business and friendship are like weed and drink, my friend," he advised sagely with a tip of his water bottle toward Trunks. "Do not mix."

Trunks shrugged, miming the toast with his own bottle before he guzzled down half of it. The clicking of heels nearby drew both men's interest. "Hey, mom."

Bulma smiled down at both boys, her hands on her hips. "Boys," she greeted. "Goten, it's so good to see you. You got something to eat, right?"

Goten's hand patted at his abs firmly, and he flashed a grin up at Bulma. "Yes, ma'am!"

There was a flicker of amusement behind Bulma's blue eyes, before she redirected her attention to her son. Hospitality aside, she began sternly, "Trunks, I need you showered and dressed in half an hour, alright? Your sister's due at the airport and-"

Annoyance was rife in Trunks' following groan. Exasperated, he pulled the towel from his shoulders, folding it over his eyes. "Mom, she can get a rental, right?"

"…Are you serious?"

Silence.

Bulma ferociously ripped the towel away from her son, twisting it up and cracking it down repeatedly on him as he jumped up from the lounger. "THAT. IS. YOUR. SISTER!" She enunciated every word with each _crack!_ as she chased Trunks up to the sliding back doors. "I will NOT go pick her up by myself!"

Trunks raised his arms to defend himself from his mother's offense. "What!? Dad's going too, right!?"

As if it sparked her fury, the towel came down this time with even more force, and Trunks howled. Goten just could not contain his guffawing laughter.

"Oh, because THAT would be such a nice car ride?!"

"Fine, fine!" Trunks bowed to his mother, his hands held up in submission. "I'll go, but—God, can Goten come, at least?"

Bulma considered this, casting a look over to the Son boy who was doubled up in laughter. With a smirk, she rolled her eyes, cracking the towel one final time against her son's lower leg. Trunks recoiled from his mother as she tossed the towel back into his hands.

"Half an hour. Both of you."

**}{**

Goten watched the dark eyes in the rearview mirror. They were locked on him, and he just couldn't break his stare away.

Thick eyebrows twitched and angled eyes finally narrowed into slits.

"Why is he fucking here?"

"Shut up," Bulma scolded Vegeta sharply. "And just drive."

Goten blushed and glanced out the window and up at the sky. He could see a plane descending, and his mind wandered to Bra. He wondered how America had treated her. He racked his brain trying to remember why she even went overseas at all.

_College, right? _He mused as he squinted up at another plane—

_Wait, no, that's a cloud. _

He dropped his chin into his palm and muffled a yawn with his fingers.

**}{**

To Goten's relief, the airport was packed with more people going than there were people coming. He surveyed the crowd, particularly the short-shorts wearing, cleavage-bearing demographic. Appearing to share a mind-link function, Trunks snickered and nudged his friend in the bicep, gesturing to a blonde with a nice set of t—

"Trunks," Bulma came into view, and both boys visibly deflated. "Your father's freaking out. Go check the time of arrival over there."

"Mom, she said 6:00, right?" Trunks sighed. "Just tell dad to—" Bulma's stare said it all, and Trunks reluctantly turned to head into the other room. "I'm going to go get a coffee from the gift shop. Yell when she pops up, okay?"

The boys exchanged fist-bumps, and Goten's wandering eye fell upon the aforementioned blonde. It was hard for him to make comparisons these days, as it had been a while since he had much to go on. Goten reminisced about his younger, carefree ass-getting days with a sad smile, his head canting as he appreciated the way the blonde leaned to the left.

Shrill cries behind him sent him spinning, though instead of an ensuing battle, he was met with the Briefs family's reunion. Caught up under Bulma's arm was what he figured to be Bra, and Goten let himself stand back to observe a rare, sweet encounter of the family. The younger girl's face remained obscured as Vegeta all but yanked his daughter from Bulma's grasp, and Bra's arms came to encircle her father's neck. She buried her face into his shoulder, and Vegeta physically lifted her from the ground as she shrieked in delight, her legs kicking out behind her.

Goten could hear her yelps of 'daddy' and, with a pang in his heart, he all but welcomed the distraction from Trunks as he approached him from the side.

"Ready to go meet and greet?" Goten wondered of his best friend with an attempt at a smirk. Trunks nodded firmly and lifted his Styrofoam cup in salute to his sister, who finally withdrew from the cocoon of her parents' arms.

Goten couldn't hide his surprise as the bolt of aquamarine headed toward the duo. She had been a continent or two away, sure, but he had never known the Briefs family to be this close. He glanced back at Vegeta and Bulma, the pair seemingly unaware of any presence aside from their children. He shivered at Vegeta's half-smile, at the tears welling up in Bulma's eyes, and even more at Trunks' firm embrace of his sister.

Bra's face finally peeked up as she rested her chin on her brother's shoulder, her eyes shut tightly. Goten scrutinized her face, unable to discern if it was pain from the force with which Trunks was holding her, or if it was longing and intense joy that gripped the girl. He tried to muster up a smile as he stepped away from the scene a couple of paces, feeling suddenly too awkward to be a member of this reunion.

"Alright, moment's been had," Trunks tried to chuckle it off, the siblings separating.

Bra laughed as she departed from her brother's arms, and she shoved playfully at him. "You big girl," she teased with a sniffle and a tearful giggle. "Too much of a manly man for hugs and kisses, hmm?"

The mass of black in her peripheral suddenly caught her attention, and Bra leaned back to get a good look up at the odd man out. "Goten."

The family accepted the lone Son member into their world again – much to Vegeta's disappointment - and Goten felt even more overwhelmingly out of place. Sheepishly, he itched at the back of his skull, his other hand waving half-heartedly. "Heyyy…. Welcome home!"

Perhaps caught up in the familial warmth, or the excitement of being home, or maybe even out of pity, Bra leaned in to hug Goten as well, and he reciprocated. It was initially a stiff embrace, as Goten became awkwardly aware of her family members' gazes. But as he felt her fists clench upon his back, he softened, offering well-intentioned pats to the back of her shoulders.

"So," Goten pulled away first and tried not to shudder in embarrassment. "Bra! You got any luggage we can help with?"

As if on cue, the girl nodded and pivoted on her heel, and her hands came together to make a finger-gun that directed toward a single conveyor belt. "Yeah, they'll all be coming out there."

"All?" Their party echoed one another, and Bra rolled her eyes exasperatedly to the airport ceiling.

"What? I was in America for five months! I did some shopping!" She shouted defensively, particularly in retort to Trunks' disgusted stare. "So sue me," she then mumbled, arms folded across her chest. Upon noticing her brother's lingering gaze, she snarled and lifted her nose into the air. She began to make her way past he and Goten, who tried his hardest not to snicker as she strut by. "Whatever, I'm going to the bathroom. I couldn't pee on the plane, it was gross."

**}{**

"We're all glad you're back, sweetheart, but… why am I in the back seat?"

Everyone turned to glance back at Bulma, who was unfortunately smushed between the muscular forms of her son and his friend. Bra was to be found in the passenger seat, a teasing smile on her face.

"When we stop again, mama, you can sit up here," her daughter allowed, as though it were an offer of the utmost generosity. Bulma simply rolled her eyes and grumbled under her breath. "Besides, I'm kinda getting hungry. Daddy, can we stop at the rest station and get some snacks?"

Within seconds, the mix found themselves perusing the shelves of a slummier rest station. As Goten popped the plastic top on to his 24 oz. slushy, he took a step back to once again observe the Briefs clan. Trunks was fighting with the Coke machine in the corner, and Bulma and Vegeta were quietly bickering on the pros and cons of sharing their beef jerky. It was then that the returning princess received his full attention.

He had to hand it to America – they definitely were the land of plenty. As innocently as he possibly could, he allowed his eyes to travel the length of Bra's now very much woman-shaped form. She had apparently blossomed overseas, and he wondered what it was that triggered her growth.

_Whatever it is, they should get a patent._

It was like a sixth sense. Bra lifted her head to look over her shoulder, catching Goten's trailing stare. Caught in the act of what simpler folk may consider 'ogling' (he would do no such thing!) he attempted to play it off, instead sending his gaze sailing across other parts of the store and out the window, as though he were simply surveying the landscape. He glanced back in time to notice her wrinkled nose as she turned back to study the ingredients listing on some overpriced junk food.

**}{**

An hour or so and a few dozen Hostess cupcakes later, the pack had made their way back into the innermost heart of Satan City. Add a couple hours more, and Bra's luggage had safely made its way into the interior of the Briefs home, her many packages and bags stacked neatly in a barricade near the front door. Goten and Trunks leant against the bottom stairs as Bra sprinted past them into her home. She inhaled deeply before swan diving onto the couch. The cool leather felt so calming against her cheek, her body having overheated in the moment of exhilaration from returning home. Bra snuggled closer into the cushions, the shifting weight beside her causing her to drift to the right and into her mother's side.

"You want to go upstairs and unpack or do it tomorrow, dear?" Bulma wondered as her hand glided tenderly through her daughter's long, aqua mane. Bra maneuvered her way back against her mother, all but snuggling as she muttered her protest into the couch. She felt her father's ki pass by her, and Bra tilted her head up to blow a kiss to his retreating form. "Tomorrow," she then replied, twisting to face her mother, her back to Trunks and Goten now. "I just wanna sleep for, oh, a thousand years? That trip is murder, mom. Fortuitous for business or not," she yawned into her palm, her back arching over the arm of the couch. Bra sprawled backward, her torso dangling upside-down as she faced her brother and his companion.

The hypnotizing sway of her hair and the position - _Yep, time to go! _**-** pulled Goten to his feet. "I'm gonna head out, dude," his hand jutted out to Trunks' face, and the lavender haired man leapt up as well, taking his fist with a firm shake. Goten turned to face the two women of the household and offered a two-fingered salute to them.

"Bulma, thanks for the food earlier. Bra," he let his attention drift down … down …. …. To her face. "I'm, y'know, glad you're back. Stop by sometime, yeah?"

Still stretched back, Bra raised a peace sign Goten's way. Her gaze slipped up to his face, and she smiled winningly with a wink. "YOU stop by sometime."

With a harsh laugh - _almost too forced, dumbfuck_ - Goten headed out of the Briefs home, considering the members of his second family in an entirely different light.


	2. Chapter 2: It's all that we could do!

**Author's Note: **I'm trying to think of an overall plot to help carry my story beyond just "OMG I WANNA HAVE BRA AND GOTEN HOOK UP!" Not too sure. We'll see how it works. Right now, I'm just going to keep establishing characters. Also, I'm gonna start peppering the characters' conversations with Japanese, mostly in the form of suffixes and small words or phrases. This would include:

Oba/Obaasan – Aunt

Oji/Ojiisan – Uncle

Hontou ni? – "Really?"

Ne? – "Right?" or "Yeah?"

-san, -chan, -sama, -kun – suffixes at the end of names being a means of addressing someone formally, casually, very respectfully, or affectionately (male).

I also use some of the Japanese versions of names, such as Yamucha (Yamcha) and Juuhachigou (Android 18) and Kurririn (Krillin), just because I like them better! And in case you didn't see the new Dragonball Z movie, Vegeta has a younger brother named Tarble who also has a wife, Gure. I suggest you YouTube it, 'cause it's freaking awesome.

Reviews are greatly appreciated and suggestions are welcome, providing that they are constructive in their nature. ;) This is my first continuous fiction – I'm much more accustomed to one shots - so I'm kind of diving into it blindly. Without further ado, we continue the story!

**These Daydreams, Okay!**

_Chapter 2: It's all that we could do!_

_They were moving at breakneck speed._

_She had never flown before._

_There were rocks under her and water crashed against the shoreline, but she would be fine. This was easy._

_In the shadow of a tower, he kissed her, and she felt her heart melt through her skin._

_When he started moaning, she looked down at him and felt like she was falling._

**}{**

The coverlets were cool and smelled like her family. Bra sighed contentedly as she pulled them up closer to her face, breathing in the familiar scent with an aching throb in her chest. The morning sun was dancing between the lace curtains of her bedroom, and she had neither the energy nor the heart to get up and shut the blinds. From this side of the planet, she welcomed the rising, all the while wallowing between her sheets and cornucopia of pillows.

As her eyes danced beneath her eyelids, she constructed images from her recent days back home. Buildings first. Her room, _just the way I left it._ _Mom's lab. Daddy's gravity machine. _

Eyes still shut, she drifted further away in her lucid state. She thought of simple sights and sounds; the way the wind blew, the bells up the road for a summer cram school, the buzzer of their home intercom.

Bra's lips curled into a grin as she recalled her welcome home party. All of their friends and loved ones were there, all of them waiting to hear about Bra's fancy trip to New York, and Bra just as eager to catch up on every last detail since her departure – from Gohan's book deal, to Marron's family's renovations to the Kame House, to Yamucha's proposal to his latest and greatest girlfriend. She was saddened to find that her best friend, Pan, had gone on a hunt to find the Dragonballs herself.

"_She was bored," Gohan shrugged, exchanging a 'come ci, come ca' look with his wife. "We're proud of her, though. It's good to see she wants to take initiative and be proactive with her life, in something. In anything."_

Her cheek tugged downward as she thought then of Goten. There seemed to be a point being driven when Gohan made that comment. _Goten's eyes rolling. Gohan grumbling. Everyone getting quiet._ She knew that Goten hadn't been making the best of his status or abilities, but she wasn't sure the extent of it. Though did she really care so much?

_His hand touched her shoulder and she turned around with a great, big smile._

"_Goten! You made it!" She beamed and embraced him close. Like family. He was much more welcoming of this hug than at the airport. "Your brother's already here, y'know?"_

_Goten frowned and shrugged a shoulder nonchalantly, his hands stuffed into his pockets as he looked askance to spot Gohan next to Videl, chatting animatedly with Bulma and Kurririn. His frown deepened. Bra noticed this and her wary glances between the pair shook him out of his reverie. Buoyantly, he bounced on his toes. _

"_Trunks somewhere around here?"_

_Still curious, though without the urge to push, Bra gestured toward the sliding doors to the backyard. "He's out smoking with Yamucha-san and Juuhachigou-san."_

"_Cool," Goten placed a firm pat to Bra's shoulder as he passed her, her bare skin warmed by his hand._

With a sigh, Bra lifted her lids to stare up at her popcorn ceiling. She wondered if she were in a time lapse. Things changed so much; she thought it would feel like it all would be put on hold for her. Her eyes drifted close again.

_He was staring up at the sun with his shirtless back to her. The definition of his muscles cast sharp, rigid shadows on his skin._

Bright cyan eyes flew open to formulate a busy, confused design between the popcorn.

**}{**

By mid-afternoon, the summer sun was beating down on the denizens of Satan City. Bra's welcome home committee didn't end at her party, as she had plenty of separate lunches with individuals to enjoy over the next few days.

Up first: Marron.

The young blonde woman was perched demurely across from her, every piece of her defining her as lady. If there was ever a big sister figure in her life, it would be this woman, who – while not entirely worldly or knowledgeable – had not only a strong moral compass, but also a keen eye for fashion and the best damn ear for gossip Bra had ever seen.

How a girl who lives all the way on a random, lonely island knows everyone's business is a skill, and Bra would not be soon convinced of otherwise.

"So… they just exploded," Marron explained with a sigh and helpless shrug, her hands reaching for her malt.

"Hontou ni…?" Bra hissed slowly, half-leaning over the table that divided them. "But that's stupid of him! My mom has offered him tons of jobs. Not even hard ones! He could just be the stamp-guy. Just stamping documents all day!"

Marron's eyebrows soared toward her bangs. "I know! He's told me," she groaned, obviously having had her fill of the situation by now. "But he says he doesn't want to be in a position where Trunks is the boss of him."

"Bullshit." It was a furious growl now that rumbled from Bra, who flicked agitatedly at the straw bobbing out of her drink. "He's just lazy. He has always had zero work ethic. I don't know what got lost in the translation between Gohan and him," she scoffed with a shake of her head, finally lowering her mouth to drain her pop. "I mean, I heard Chi Chi-obaa was very strict with Gohan growing up. What happened?"

It was a sad, long exhale that followed from Marron. "Probably Goku-san, ne? I mean, he's kind of the factor, there."

The girls sat in a quiet, somber state thereafter. It was rare that people actively mentioned or remembered Son Goku outside of his heroic endeavors. Any one of them could gush at great length of his accomplishments as Earth's Greatest Protector – but sometimes it was hard to grasp that he had a family, too. Bra sat back in her chair, her hands folding over her midriff. She grimaced suddenly, wiping a bead of sweat from her temple. The temperature was skyrocketing as the city remained aglow with summer's glory. She pulled at the wide neck of her sheer peasant blouse and rose from the table, followed soon by Marron. Both girls retrieved their tips and set them aside, heading out into the street and toward Marron's aircar.

**}{**

The boutique was huge, with lots of racks with fine clothes folded on them. There were branch-like stands with jewelry literally dripping from them. Marron and Bra shifted through the stacks without pity, every now and then holding up shorts or skirts or tops for the other's approval. Marron nodded promptly to a polka-dotted bikini set that Bra had flipped her way.

"Soooo, did you meet any guys across the way?" Marron tried ever-so-casually to pop such a question, and Bra could only roll her eyes at such an adorable attempt.

"Three," she answered, without hesitation or embarrassment. ….Well, maybe a little embarrassment. Her cheeks began to flush under the scrutiny of her friend, who she knew was just staring bullets at her from across the store. When Bra looked up, she couldn't help the short laugh that burst from her at the sight of Marron's surprise. "What? I'm 20 years old, Marron. And I'm a cute foreigner," Bra continued, throwing up the cheesey, stereotypical peace sign. "How could I expect them to resist me?"

Marron's chuckle was one of genuine amusement and of awe. "I … I suppose I don't know. But three? Over five months? I mean, were you—"

"Casual, casual," Bra ticked off on her fingers, "and one that lasted for a month and a half. Why should I have wanted anything serious?" She mused as she turned back to a pile of strappy woven wedge heels. "It was an adventure, for me. This is my home, and I don't want any extra ties over there. I just wanted to be home," she spoke her sentiment with softness, but a little more passion than before.

Her time across the pond was exciting of course, but Bra had never journeyed so far away by herself. She had gone for her mother's sake, classes in Communications and business related courses to assist the family business in the long term, when Trunks' run had need of assistance. This train of thought, however, sparked fresh a new topic in her brain.

Coy smile on her face, she turned to face Marron with arched eyebrows. "Speaking of Trunks—"

Marron was already sprinting to the checkout line and out of earshot, much to Bra's amusement.

**}{**

Bra unloaded her parcels on the living room couch with a proud smile, her hands shifting to her hips as she ogled her goods. "Good haul," she praised herself a nod. She paused to tilt her head, her ear raised upwards to listen for voices. From beyond the glass doors in the kitchen, she heard them.

Kicking off her heels along the way, Bra paused at the entry way of the kitchen to watch the open fridge door with an arched brow. Whoever was buried inside it had already placed an array of lunch foods all along the countertop. The door finally shut and stepping back from its contents was a shortish figure similar to her father. Bra's face immediately lit up.

"Ojii!" She squealed, bounding up to her smaller uncle. Tarble was instantaneously engulfed by his niece, initially startled by her intrusion, but he accepted her embrace once he registered her bright blue hair. Abundant with glee, she withdrew and looked her uncle over with joy. "What're you doing all the way out here?"

Tarble chuckled around a mouthful of something, and he did his best to swallow what mass was stuffed into his mouth. "Ah, we heard you were back and—"

"'We?'" Bra interjected, before gasping excitedly, "Ooh! Does that mean Obaa is here, too?"

Her uncle nodded, his face stretched with amusement at the exuberance of his niece. "Yes, she's out by the pool with your mother." Tarble's smile widened to find Bra even more pleased with this. "Come out with us! The day is wonderful. I was just getting lunch for us," he gestured to the counter of food.

Bra laughed into her palm, her head shaking bemusedly at the sight. She moved her hand, patting her uncle on the shoulder. "Alright, you've convinced me. Let me go get my suit on, I'll be out in a minute!" She turned to leave the room, though she stopped at the last moment to turn and face her uncle. He had loaded up his arms again with the entire contents of the fridge, and her smile expanded across her face.

**}{**

If possible, the day had grown even hotter as evening grew closer. Bra groaned uncomfortably as she twisted on her lounger. "I am literally dripping with sweat. This is beyond gross!" She wailed, her face screwing up in her grief. She was wrapped in naught but a pair of bikini bottoms and a tube-top bikini top.

Splayed out on the loungers that lined the poolside next to her was her mother and Gure, her Uncle Tarble's wife.

"No one forced you to come out here," Bulma chided her daughter, lifting her sunglasses up from over her eyes.

Unmoved, Bra simply jutted out her tongue in her mother's direction. Bulma hrumphed in disdain and laid back once more.

"Oh, please don't be like that," Gure pleaded of the two. "Bra, you know, it is so good to have you home. Your uncle and I just worried the entire time and prayed for your safe return every day."

The young girl rolled over onto her side to better observe her aunt. Gure was a small thing, probably only coming up to Bra's knee. She had always been sweet and kind to Bra, offering the kind of motherly advice her own mother was sometimes unable to provide. Behind her sunglasses, her eyes softened as she skimmed over to her uncle and father battling a few feet away. The energy with which they fought raised Bra's heart from her chest. She exhaled, resting her head back and closing her eyes.

"Thank you, Obaa," she replied after a moment, turning her head to the side to flash the little alien a sincere smile.

**}{**

The heat was getting to her. Stepping into the kitchen, Bra nearly collapsed against the glass doors, pressing herself backward against them to hold herself upright. She shut her eyes against the cool air billowing from the air conditioning, and the chill from the glass began to cool the skin on the back of her thighs and her shoulders. She leaned like that for several minutes, absorbing the feelings rushing over and inside of her body.

One eye finally popped open to spot a manly torso in front of her. Once both eyes opened and shifted focus, the figure of Son Goten became clear. Bra flickered a half smile at his uncertainty of her position.

"Hi," she offered with a lilt, still pressed against the back doors.

"Hey," he returned with raised eyebrows and shrugged shoulders. "You alright?"

Bra laughed a little, turning her palm behind her to push it against the glass. "It's just hot outside. I just came in," she explained and finally peeling herself away from the sliding doors. She padded past Goten to the fridge, digging out two cans of pop. Casually, she turned to toss him one. He caught it instinctively as she popped the top of her own with her cherry nails.

Goten guzzled at his soda as Bra continued, "Gure-obaa and Tarble-ojii are here. Out back," she gestured with her can.

"Trunks?" He queried.

With a small frown, Bra tilted her head toward the living room to their left. "Work. They called him in late to file some stuff, or answer a phone. Something really, really important," she spoke the last sentence in a mocking tone, her eyes soaring heavenwards. On their way to the ceiling, she glimpsed Goten's somewhat crestfallen expression. She felt herself shift toward him unconsciously. "Goten? Are you okay?"

However imperceptible he thought his expressions might be, Goten's heart was on his sleeve. Bra picked up the roll of his shoulders, the double-take up at her, the tiny wrinkle of his brows. And most certainly did she understand the shoddy "No, I'm cool" that he tried to throw out casually.

"You should come outside with us," she suggested with her best shot at a playful smile, knowing that a decline was likely in store for her. "It's nice out; you can probably join Ojii and papa in some sparring?"

Goten merely waved her off, missing her exasperated eye roll. "Nah, I'll just—y'know, just tell him—" He hesitated, then frowned and shook his head sharply. "Whatever. I'll call him later."

"You sure?" Bra dipped her head closer to him, trying to peek into his downcast eyes. Goten lifted his gaze to meet her scrutinizing stare, and he couldn't help but break into a weak, half-hearted smile. She took that moment to study his expression, his facial features, and she registered an emotion behind his eyes.

_He's lonely._ It kind of struck Bra as an awe-inspiring concept, the notion that he who was constantly surrounded by loved ones was indulging himself in a depressing fit of loneliness.

His words, however, spoke differently. "I'm good," Goten held up his hands, his fingers spread out wide as if to prevent further invitation. "Really. I'm just gonna…" He threw his thumb behind him over his shoulder and stretched his mouth in the same direction. It was an awkward facial contortion, seemingly force and aggravating his face. It wasn't a Goten expression.

Bra felt the pity flush into her cheeks. She ducked her head and gestured her palm toward the front door, and she remained wordless – a thousand words she could say, but none of them wanted to fit into an appropriate sentence. Goten took her silence and nodded, walking out the front door again. Bra's gaze remained fixated on Goten as he exited, her eyes unconsciously tracing the pattern of muscles outlined by his shirt.


	3. Chapter 3: What You Got!

**Author's Note: **Yay! I've stuck with it this long, I'm so proud of myself~! Anyway, pretty much just more character development, but - *GASP!* - Bra and Goten interact without the facilitation of others in this chapter! Hurrah! I also begin to address pivotal character dramaz that will feature in my fic.

Phrases and words used in the fic:

Ohayo gozaimasu – Good morning! (super polite way to say it)

"Goten-chan hidoi!" – "Terrible Goten!" (I think this is how to say it… if I'm wrong, correct me!)

Gomen / gomen nasai – I'm sorry or I'm very sorry

Choto matte – Wait or wait a second

Enjoy the rest of the chapter! Continue to read and review, por favor!

**These Daydreams, Okay!**

_Chapter 3: What You Got_

"…Seems we'll be looking at temperatures upwards in the high nineties," the well-groomed weatherman teased the audiences at home, "and it's likely we'll break into the hundreds around the middle of the week. Back to you, Gogo."

However, tucked safe inside the Briefs Home, the temperature was stationed in the low seventies. It was times like these that Bra worshipped the invention of central air.

The early-afternoon's sun was casting brilliant streams of light into Bra's room, the windows shut tight against the unrelenting heat but her curtains were pushed wide open to welcome in the sun. The light appeared to be seeking her out, the beams touching the backs of her heels as she stood tip-toe in front of her bathroom vanity. The young girl was preoccupied with studying her complexion, peering intently into her pores and pulling at the corners of her eyes.

She was a pretty girl, there was no denying that. Good genetics and careful grooming had seen to Bra's excelling popularity through her school years, sometimes with one gender of her peers over the other. This was only exacerbated by the mounds of cash to which her family had laid claim. Though it wasn't until really the previous year she'd started to transition through the awkward teenage-to-adult stage. Her figure had filled out sometime since graduation, more resembling her mother's build, which satisfied Bra greatly.

She stepped back from the mirror to examine the rest of her figure. Her tiny hands raked through her long blue hair, tossing the strands this way and that. She pulled her locks up and fisted them at the top of her head as she studied her neckline, her shoulders. Dropping her mane, she twisted to the side, running her hands along her hour-glass waist and firm abdomen.

It was like a ritual, this systematic examination of her person. Some days were met with disgust, but most days, like today, were met with pleasure. Bra smiled at herself and canted her head to the side. "You are something else," she praised her reflection, apparently in wonder of her own fortunate looks.

**}{**

Life in the Son household, however, was not as comfortable as that of the Briefs'. Their home had been built from the ground up, completely natural, and Chi Chi and Goku had always refused anything but the bare necessities when it came to technological advances. Chi Chi's idea of air conditioning consisted of opening all the windows and relying on the gentle wind to cool the family.

Goten squirmed around in his bed, the sheets having long since been kicked off of him. He groaned in agony, his eyes shut tight as the summer's heat radiated into the home. The barest of breezes swept in, and his expression shifted minutely in relief. He squinted against the morning light. With a wide yawn, he turned over on his side, facing the night stand and his alarm clock. It took a moment for him to analyze the positions of the hands, but he eventually recognized the time as somewhere around 10 AM.

Laying there, he just studied the land outside his bedroom window. He sighed forlornly as the trees barely swayed as what could only be considered a waft shook the branches.

He lay back then against his pillows, and he grimaced at the stickiness of perspiration that kept him glued to his bed. Goten rested the back of his hand against his forehead, his body trying to accommodate itself to what little swells of air managed to swoop into his room. With as much effort as he could muster, Goten lifted himself off his sheets, his arms stretching out behind him as he worked to spread his shoulders out of sleep. Finally, he stood with a great yawn, and Goten almost grudgingly exited his room.

Goten immediately made a B-line for the family's bathroom. Once confined, he locked the door behind him, and approached the sink. He frowned at the mass of hair matted atop his head, and he pulled grumpily at a thick branch of it.

From the hall, he heard his mother's cry, "GOOOOOTEEEEEN! You'd better be AWAKE!"

He released the gob of hair and sighed, glowering fiercely at his reflection.

**}{**

The rumble of the earphones plugged into Bra's ears startled Bulma. The woman looked over at her daughter, who was sprawled out on the living room floor, her arms tucked behind her head. Bulma considered her child thoughtfully as she rested her chin in her hand, observing the young girl swaying her knees together and apart in time with whatever music she was listening to.

Bulma had seen her daughter's face more so now than she had prior to Bra's studying abroad. She was afraid to inquire as to why her daughter had decided to be a homebody since her return, worried that her daughter – who shared her tendency to become explosive when confronted – was troubled by something but was withholding whatever was inside. Bulma focused on whatever lyrics her daughter was mouthing, trying to discern the words, as if they might tell her what was going on inside her head.

At the top of her head, Bra felt a burning sensation. Her eyes opened, and she flickered her gaze up behind her to find her mother staring holes at her. She lifted her fingers up to draw out her earphones, trying her best to smile for her mother's behalf. "Mom? Something wrong?"

With a nervous laugh, Bulma waved her daughter off. "No, nothing! Just … glad you're back," she tried to save face, offering the most motherly smile she could manage. However, with some pangs of anxiety, she realized her daughter was not buying it. With a heavy sigh, Bulma nodded and relented, "I just don't understand what you're doing here?"

Such a query was met with an confused stare on Bra's part. "I… my stuff's here? I don't know what you're getting at—"

"You should be out there!" Bulma gestured emphatically toward the front window that overlooked the busy intersection near their home. "With your friends! You've been home for a week now, sweetheart, and you've only gone shopping with Marron once. I haven't even seen you on the phone!" There was an edge of nervousness creeping into her voice, and Bulma ducked her head to try and regain composure. "I'm just worried that you're…"

The threat of silence indicated that Bulma didn't want to finish, and Bra did not want to invent an answer for her mother. At last, Bra rose up off the carpet, dusting her backside off as she pocketed her mp3 player. "I'm okay, mama," Bra reassured her mother with a gentle smile. "I'm just comfortable being home. I was out and about for five months." She paused, before tilting her head teasingly at her mother. "I can't enjoy a little R and R at home?"

Bulma inspected her daughter from head to toe, and she shook her head. "I just want to know that you're readjusting well. That you're in contact with—"

The bomb was set to detonate. Bra groaned in exasperation, tossing back her head, her long hair sailing. "Mother! Who am I supposed to be in contact with? Most of my friends are in college or busy, and otherwise it's just Marron."

"Well, Pan-chan—" Bulma began.

With a sneer, Bra turned away with her arms folded, her blood boiling as she cut her mother off, "Pan wasn't even here for my coming home party, she doesn't fit into the equation." Her words were terse and coarse, and Bulma felt a pang of sympathy for her daughter. Bra continued snottily, her nose still curled up in essence of her father, "But you know, that's fine! She just wanted to have a reason to, to, to…" The girl struggled with the word, fisting the air desperately to find it, "…UPSTAGE ME! That's right!"

Her mother rested her forehead in her palm. "Bra, that's not it."

"It is!" Bra continued vehemently, her anger beginning to surface. "You know, I've thought a lot about it. I mean, she's supposed to be MY best friend," she pressed her index finger intently against her heart. "She knew when I was coming back! Why ELSE would she leave, if she just didn't want to—"

"Enough."

Vegeta's voice carried down from the foyer, and both women turned to face him. He was staring heavily at his child, his expression unreadable. Bra instantly felt her heart sink down from her throat, and she hung her head under his gaze. When she felt him nearer to her, she looked up, her jaw tight as she fought against her tirade and excuses for it. Instead, he rested a hand on her shoulder, and he bent his head to peck the top of her head.

"That will get you nowhere," he advised his daughter with a narrowed gaze. "Who gives a fuck what that brat is doing? She isn't here; you are. If she chose to leave, we're better off without her."

"Vegeta," Bulma scolded him.

Bra looked between her parents dejectedly. Her father's hand felt like it was the only thing keeping her planted at the moment. As they began to bicker, she felt a throbbing in her ears, and she recognized it as her heartbeat. Bra shifted out from under her father's hold and flashed him a quick, somewhat apologetic, look. "Mom's right, I should probably go out and … get my mind off things," she waved a hand around her temple and tried to laugh out her words.

Moving away from the pair, she started to walk backward to the front door, and she shot her hand out behind her to catch the doorknob. "So, I'm gonna go do some shopping, you know, think about things and find enlightenment between the racks!"

Twisting the knob behind her, Bra tugged the door open and pirouetted into the daylight with a mangled sigh.

**}{**

Even Goten wished he had never left the shelter of his home. The heat was building in the city, and the citizens wandering about were sweltering under the beat of the sun. He pulled at his collar for a moment to air out himself, and he squinted upward at the sun. Hesitation glimmered in his eyes as he turned to stare at the entrance of the shop before him, before he swallowed hard and pushed the door open.

A bright jingle sounding from overhead heralded Goten's arrival. He savored the moment in which the sweet blast of air conditioning hit him, though a second later he remembered he was in public and proceeded into the shop. It was a men's clothing outlet, albeit some of the décor of the shop begged to differ. Posters of half-naked men with rippling abs – _Those are probably airbrushed_, he sneered to himself – and fancy leather couches did not particularly appeal to Goten's senses. Neither, for that matter, did the strong men's fragrance that wafted up his nostrils and threatened to overpower him.

However, the stunning brunette behind the counter DID work in the store's favor, Goten observed. He took a moment to appreciate her, applauding the store on what could be their most favorable asset. Self-consciously, Goten lifted a hand to pat at his black tuft of hair and he righted the polo that was fitting snuggly against his own, very real rippling abs. _Yeah, _he mentally reaffirmed this for himself with a proud grin before he shuffled up to the counter.

Madoka, according to her nametag, beamed brilliantly up at Goten as he approached, and she inclined her head politely. "What can I do for you, sir?"

"Well," Goten began, as charmingly as he possibly could – _which was pretty damn charming, if he did say so himself_, "I was hoping to inquire about—"

Interrupting his best efforts, Madoka turned to the next entrant into the shop with the same practiced smile and a bright, "Ohayo gozaimasu! If you need any help today, miss, just let us know!"

He felt a little insulted by Madoka's disregard and the fervor with which she greeted the new customer. Curious as to who had drawn the cashier's attention so quickly from him (_and did she say 'miss?'_) Goten turned to glance over his shoulder to spy the young woman who was addressed. In a moment, he spotted her, and her long blue tresses. He was surprised to find her in such a store, and Goten settled for a moment to watch her peruse the shelves of slacks and pause at the stylish mannequins.

Madoka, with her abundant energy, began again to address Goten. "So, what was tha—"

"Choto matte, ne?" Goten hurriedly held up his index finger, spinning away from the counter and taking three wide, though quiet, steps to make it behind Bra. Ever so slowly, he spread his arms, hesitating … hesitating … before he swooped his arms down dramatically and scooped her up by her middle.

Bra emitted sharp squeal at the unexpected intrusion, and she fought for a second against his grasp until she caught his sinister grin in her peripheral. She relaxed and folded into giggles in Goten's arms, her struggling more playful now. "Goten-kun hidoi!" She chided him once he released her, and she twirled to shove at him with a pout on her face. "You know, I was this close," she held up her thumb and index finger with a miniscule amount of space between them, "from knocking you out, you know that?"

He smirked down at her red face, watching the pink slowly drain out of her features. "Yeah, sure," Goten rolled his eyes at her empty threat, landing his hand on the top of her head to ruffle her hair, and she quickly ducked out from under his palm. "You just wait and see what happens when you make threats like that! Someone might take you seriously, and THEN what would we do?"

Not the fan of being mocked, Bra lifted her heel and brought it down with just enough force upon the toes of Goten's shoe. He winced, grimacing in the pinch. "Gomen, gomen nasai! I take it back," he apologized in a short gasp once she twisted her heel down again. Satisfied, Bra retracted her foot, her mouth twisted up in a smug look.

"What are you even doing here, anyway?" She inquired of him then, her eyebrows arched.

Goten couldn't help but laugh bemusedly at her question. "B-chan, this is a men's clothing store. If anyone here needs a second look, it's you."

Bra rolled her eyes and settled her hands on the curve of her waist. "I just meant, this is more like a 'look at me' kind of men's store. This is not a Goten store." Now, she leveled a flat look, and drove her point home, "I mean, since when would _you_ wear anything in here?"

He had to give that to her. He couldn't recall a day that he actually ever wore anything that wasn't bought on sale at some of his favorite-less-pricey-much-more-manly stores, made by his mother, or inherited from his brother and father. In fact, he realized with another look around the store, he wasn't even sure he'd know what to do with some of the accessories here. _What would I even need a hemp choker for?_

"Well, to be honest, I was gonna get a … y'know …" he gestured toward the cashier, and Bra's only fixed him with a quizzical expression. Goten groaned and rolled his eyes to the ceiling, his face beginning to flush with embarrassment. He muttered under his breath, "….iwasgunnagetnapplication…"

This was evidently not what she was anticipating to hear, he judged from her surprise. Bra leaned back to better inspect Goten's face for any sign of jokery, yet when she found none, her eyebrows rocketed into the strands of blue that hovered over her forehead. "Well, that's …. Interesting."

It wasn't interesting to her at all. _If anything_, he thought a little more grumpily now, _it's probably amusing to her. _"Some of us can't just sustain ourselves off of our parents alone, you know?"

He instantly regretted the statement as he watched her blue eyes narrow.

_Foot, meet mouth._

"I didn't mean it like that," Goten quickly covered, lifting his hand to rub at his forehead. "I meant it—"

"Exactly the way you said it," Bra finished for him, her arms folding over her chest. Her stance was defensive. She was very reminiscent of her mother like this, Goten observed with now a genuine hint of fear. "Which is funny, since you've been doing it pretty good for the last couple months, from what I've heard."

Goten's guilt was instantly swallowed by his own temper's flare. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Uh, it means that I'm pretty sure that the last job you had was mowing my parents' lawn," Bra sneered.

_Fucking. Bitch._ Goten gritted his teeth at her tightly folded arms and the way her weight shifted to one leg over the other. However, it painfully occurred to him then, that should they engage further in this war of words, she'd probably win. _By a landslide, she would win._

"I don't want to have this conversation," he got out between his teeth, his breaths slow and deep as he tried to calm himself down. "Can I take it back?"

Bra squinted at him, analyzing his posture and face. _Defeated._ She shrugged and uncrossed her arms, her hands finding their place again on her hips. "You may. And," she tacked on with an extra lift of her eyebrows, "you may also buy me a slushee." Without allowing him the chance to decline, the girl turned and headed for the door out to the street again.

The jingle rang out, and she was waiting outside for him. He stared after her, uncertain and shocked at her demand, before he allowed himself a chuckle as he followed her path outside.


	4. Chapter 4: At best!

**Author's Note: **Finally got this chapter spun out in between my mounds of homework leading up to finals. Also, this chapter features extensive mention of Chi Chi, as I am a fan of her character (she doesn't get the credit she deserves!) and I was working through some issues with my own mother. They just sort of happened to coincide with my story, so it worked out well!

Terms to know:

Hime-sama - princess

Yuushi - brave warrior

"Daijoubu desu." - "I'm fine."

"Masaka!" - "No way!" (said in disbelief)

**These Daydreams, Okay!**

_Chapter 4: At best!_

One big blue eye was peering desperately into the contents of the styrofoam cup. Bra's expression slackened with a disgruntled sigh and she lifted her face from the mouth of her cup, a frown planted on her face as she shook the cup in her hand. A sloshing noise was barely audible as she popped the plastic lid over it.

Goten watched her bemusedly, his cheek smushed in his hand as he sipped lazily at his slowly melting slushee. He assumed the reason for her displeasure with her treat was that it had already liquidated, much as his had already. Goten amused himself with observing her facial twists for a moment, before his black gaze drifted past Bra and down the street. Nothing in particular caught his eye. The way the clouds moved sent him looking skywards to appreciate their delicate fluffiness. They reminded him of something, and his eyebrows began to draw together in consideration.

_Slurrrrrrrp!_

He was jerked out of reverie by her demand of attention, his obsidian eyes swinging back down to her face. Goten smirked at the defined hollow of her cheeks as she intently drew up the blue liquid that had originally promised relief from the swath of summer heat. He didn't blame her for her discontent as he scowled back down at his cup. Wordlessly, he looked back up at her, lifting his cup and tilting his head to their left where a wide-mouthed garbage can sat.

Lifting her mouth up from the straw, Bra rolled her eyes and nodded with obvious sadness. Twisting, she pitched the cup into the bin before him, the can accepting her skillful toss. "Whoo!" She shouted in her victory, her arms thrown up in the air above her head. Not that there was any chance she would've missed anyway, but she relished in her success all the same.

Life was all about the little victories when it came down to it, or at least this was Bra's philosophy.

"Big deal," Goten groaned in exasperation of her cheer, apparently not a follower of this same school of thought. Canting his wrist back then forward, he sent the cup sailing. Much to his embarrassment, the cup collided with the rim of the can and fell with a splatter to the sidewalk. He sighed heavily into his hands, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyeballs as the girl across from him simply leered into his hunched shoulders.

With a snide lift to her nose, she barely leaned over the table, offering haughtily, "Apparently, it's a big fucking deal, Baller."

He snapped his eyes up at her to catch a look that made him hate her and laugh at her at once. So proud of her frivolous success over him; there was little doubt in his mind of her parentage. "Whatever," he began dryly, trying to match her snootiness and pushing himself away from the table as he reclined in the iron chair. "Lucky shot."

"Mine or yours?" She wondered with her best take at innocence. He merely rolled his eyes at her taunt and finally lifted himself up.

Bra followed suit, ducking down again to retrieve the many shopping bags resting at the leg of their table. They had sought shelter from the summer's wrath at one of the popular cafes, only to find its interior spilling with citizens who were searching in vain for their same need. Both of them caved, accepting the available seats out on the patio – an umbrella was their only protection.

As they stepped out from the shadow, Goten hissed in aggravation, his eyes slitting up at the sky. "It's fucking hot," he observed with annoyance, his shoulders trying to shake off the wave of heat that washed over him as they started again into the street. He paused to let the parcel-laden girl catch up the few couple of paces.

"Good job, Goten," she praised him with a pant, readjusting the position of her purchases. "And you didn't even need a thermometer or anything!" Her mockery of him would have probably been more successful had she not been wrestling with her goods. Dropping the attitude, she looked up at Goten helplessly, and before she even opened her mouth he had reached to take some of the bags from around her limbs.

Finally comfortable, she threw him a somewhat apologetic, grin. "Arigato gozaimasu, Goten-kun."

Goten tried not to roll his eyes at how fast her gears could switch. "The least that I could do," he half-chuckled, half-grumbled.

Ruining her moment of graciousness, Bra offered with a playful smirk, "Obviously."

**}{**

Half the day was gone already, and Goten had only acquired two applications; one for a bellhop position at a hotel, the other (and much more promising) one was for a cellular phone kiosk at the Mall. He'd probably be rife with embarrassment and a twinge of self-loathing right now, except seated to his left was a creature who knew little two nothing of those two concepts. He glanced out of the corner of his eye to catch Bra chatting animatedly into her phone and, for a fraction of a second, he envied her buoyancy.

"Masaka!" She giggled, rolling her eyes to whomever was on the other end. "You're not like that, Marron-chan!"

Goten smiled and relaxed once the name was mentioned. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen Marron in a while. Not since Trunks had completely embarrassed himself falling all over himself for her. He smirked, and noticed Bra's inquisitive look at the sudden change in demeanor. He mouthed 'later' and she nodded once.

"Ano, I've gotta go. We're still on for Friday, ne?" Bra queried into the receiver and was pleased by the answer. "Hai! Ja ne!" She hit the 'end' button and pocketed her cell phone, turning to face Goten almost expectantly.

With a chuckle, Goten merely shook his head, his eyes trained on the buildings that passed by the windows of their trolley. "I said later."

He could feel her pout. "It IS later! You made me hang up on Marron-chan for nothing," she reprimanded him.

"I didn't make you do anything, Hime-sama," he teased her and was rewarded with a quick punch to his shoulder. He winced _– she actually had a little force there! _Color Goten surprised.

"Don't mock me," Bra snorted and leaned back in her seat, her head tipped back to touch the window pane behind her. She caught him rubbing his shoulder and she smiled with fleeting pride. "Does Goten-chan have a boo-boo?" She cooed as she lifted a hand to ruffle his hair.

Blushing, he swatted her playful hand away. "No," he shot out defensively, eyeing her. "My arm just … itched."

"Liar," she continued her teasing with little promise of relenting. "It's okay, Goten-kun. I don't even know my own strength sometimes!" As if to emphasize her point, she hiked up her flowy sleeve and bent her arm, forcing her muscles to flex into a reasonably tight mound. "Check out this gun show!"

Goten grumbled and rolled his eyes. "That's a gun show? I must be a firearms exhibit, then," he retorted, mentally praising himself on a job well done; _you sounded witty AND, hey, ego boost. _

She laughed out loud, her face glowing with mirth by now. He blushed, but furrowed his eyebrows in the face of her glee.

"Don't be jealous," Bra waved him off, her hands folding primly in her lap.

It was Goten's turn to laugh and he arched an eyebrow her way. "Jealous? Of what? I'm just saying: unimpressive."

He watched her expression darken minutely, and Bra slowly began to stretch her arm up above her head. There was a brief sinister look that slid across her countenance as her palm squared and he ducked his head to avoid the on-coming blow.

Instead, there came the ringing overhead as their trolley came to a halt. Goten felt her shift and rise beside him, and he opened his eyes to look up to her. One hand was on her hip, the other's digits were draped around the trolley stop wire.

On her face, a smirk of absolute arrogance.

Goten shuddered in both embarrassment and something indefinable. He could only bring himself to frown disapprovingly at her satisfaction.

Bra winked as she uncurled her fingers from the wire, her hands grabbing for the gaggle of her parcels stationed at Goten's feet. "Let's go, Yuushi-chan." Little else was offered before she made her way through the crowded trolley.

The lilt of her voice and bat of her lash sparked him up from his seat almost immediately. Already several paces behind her, Goten rushed to collect the remainder of her packages and follow her to the street outside the compartment.

**}{**

The rays of the sun were straining to stretch beyond the horizon by the time they had reached her parked aircar. Goten ground his foot against the cigarette butt Bra had just tossed to the ground, and she smiled appreciatively.

"Arigato, Goten-kun, for lugging my stuff around," Bra bowed her head in sincerity, her smile unwavering. "It was really nice of you."

His cheeks flushed vaguely, his gaze flitting skywards as he reached up to scratch at the back of his head. "Yeah. I feel dumb about it now though, seeing as you've been carrying those bad boys with you the entire time," he gestured with finger guns to her upper arms. This elicited a giggle from the aqua-haired girl, who proudly brought both arms up to flex once more. Goten couldn't help but chuckle at her antics.

There was an awkward haze that drifted then between the two then. Bra, who had lowered her azure gaze to Goten's shuffling feet, finally drew herself upright and extended her right arm to the young man standing apart from her. Goten was startled by the apparition of her open palm, and he felt a self-conscious ripple in the bottom of his chest. It took a beat, but his expression finally relaxed and he accepted her handshake only to tug her closer to him in a one-armed hug.

His arm across her shoulder, her head against his chest. Bra felt a certain warmth wash over her from the top of her head to the soles of her shoes as she accepted his demonstration of their kinship. They were close, their families having been considerably tight-knit since even before her conception. They were certainly close enough to exchange a hug without questioning stares from their peers. However, Bra found herself feeling squeamish with her nose buried in his shirt and her arm wrapped around his back. Just as the bubbles popping in her head began to alleviate, Goten stepped back from her, his trademark grin on his face.

"Get home, Bra-chan," he urged her with a gentle push to her shoulder. She snickered as she bumped lightly into the car behind her. "Before your dad puts on his game face and comes scouring the city for you."

Bra nodded and laughed under her breath, her hand tugging at the driver's side handle to open the door. "Thanks again," she reiterated as she lowered herself into the aircraft. "Sorry your job hunting didn't go better."

Goten shrugged helplessly, rounding his shoulders as if to prepare for battle. "Kaasan will probably rail me, but… two is better than none, right?" He perked his thumbs up, a weak attempt to remove the concern that seemed to be weaving itself across Bra's teal stare. He held the act for a couple moments longer, before he finally allowed his shoulders to slump under her scrutiny.

She sat, half of her torso still leaning out of the car with her arms propping the door open, and continued to observe his several seconds of wallowing. Bra then straightened fixed him with a stern look at immediately brought him out of his pity party. "You know she only wants the best for you," she reminded him, her voice firm.

He nodded, and she could see remorse fluttering over his features. Undeterred, she continued.

"Chi-obaa is always there to help you and support you. You should be fair to her." Bra couldn't say where this lecture was coming from. Didn't she just suck up half his day in her own gallivanting around town? She felt a twinge of guilt nestle itself in her breast at that thought.

Goten groaned in annoyance of her words, his head stretching backward so that his pointy-ended locks stretched straight upwards. "I know, I know," he brushed her off with a long, exaggerated sigh. This, he came to realize, was not an appropriate reaction. He thought of his mother, and all her infinite love that she had shown him throughout the years.

_Fuck, could you be a bigger douche bag? _Goten thought mirthlessly of himself, a souring feeling taking over his limbs.

Catching Bra's steely gaze, Goten had to glance away. "I really am trying," he amended quickly, his voice quieting in shame.

"Try harder," she then blithely chirruped, retrieving his attention again. "But I understand your little rock and your kinda hard place. Chi-obaa was graced with need to shower all with the full abundance of her love, wasn't she?"

The embellishment of his mother's personality quirk brought an alternative smile to Goten's lips.

With a swift flash of a peace sign, Bra brought the driver's side door closed and started the ignition. Goten took a step back to watch her aircraft rise from the ground and lift off into the sky, rocketing in the direction of where he knew Capsule Corporation's compound lay.

**}{**

_There had been an overwhelming sadness within her heart. Each passing day felt like a little death as it brought Bra closer and closer to her day of departure._

_Sons and Briefs were joined together under the roof of the Son's house buried in the wilderness. Such family gatherings were rare, but it seemed the stars had aligned themselves in the two clans' favor. The men plus Pan were gathered in the yard, engaged in a tiny tournament of their own. Wives were in the house. Bra, a partner in neither category, was perched on the wooden bench a safe distance away from the fighters._

_A warm hand brushed her shoulder, and she looked up to find Chi Chi's soft black eyes crinkling in a kind smile. The older woman sat down next to the younger, Bra scooting to accommodate the addition._

"_Ah, they're really goin' at it, aren't they?"_

_Bra laughed a little, but spoke nothing. She felt she suddenly didn't have the energy. Forlornly, she returned her azure gaze upon the cluster of combatants. Suddenly, she felt Chi Chi's eyes boring into her, and she turned slightly to face her with a half-guilty, half-wondering expression._

"_What's the matter, Bra-chan? Something ain't right with you," Chi Chi observed in a quiet, invested tone. Motherly. _

_Bra could've blushed at her concern, and she ducked her head to avoid Chi Chi's stare. "D... Daijoubu desu." She didn't believe herself, and lifting her head she found that Chi Chi didn't, either._

_The older woman leaned back from the girl, swiveling her eyes briefly over the group across from them. "I miss Goku-sa every day," she confessed abruptly, her voice faraway._

_Bra felt a tug at the bottom of her stomach at the mention of his name. _

"_It hurts," Chi Chi continued, her brows knitting in an effort to keep composed. "A lot of the time. But… I know we'll be together again." Such assurance in her words startled Bra, and the blue haired girl didn't know what to say. So, Chi Chi carried on. "You don't have to worry about your family, Bra-chan. They will always be here, waiting for you."_

_She could see where this was going, and Bra didn't know if she could keep the tears from falling suddenly. "I know," she admitted. "I just keep thinking it's a bad idea. I've never been away…" Bra's voice trailed off in her sadness, her eyes fixed on a point somewhere behind the fighters._

_Chi Chi's hand fell again on her shoulder. "It's not a bad idea," she told her firmly. "Education is never bad. When Gohan-chan was little, I could be just awful to him and Goku-sa about his studies," Bra could hear a pang of guilt in Chi Chi's voice. "But it paid off. Now look at him!" The mother gestured proudly to her son, decked out in his suit and glasses, as Videl wandered up behind him and he looped an arm around her shoulders. "He's a scholar, with a happy little family, like mama always wanted. And he can take care of me when the time comes that I can't."_

_Bra studied the woman's ever-changing expression. She could find sadness, fury, pride, and other unnamable emotions just flittering away across Chi Chi's features. Bra looked away, feeling embarrassed for both she and Chi Chi. Such an exchange of emotion between them was rare if not unprecedented. Bra fixed her gaze on her own brother, who was rocketing into the air with Goten._

"_It's necessary, sweetheart," came Chi Chi's soft words then. When Bra looked up, she found herself looking into those powerful dark eyes. "You will be fine. You will be careful," it was almost a warning, "and you will be smart, and you will be fine."_

_Uncertainty still radiated from Bra's innards, but the fear was quelled as Chi Chi's arms drew her in. The mother brought a child that wasn't hers into a hug that suggested Bra was, and Bra couldn't help but bury her face into Chi Chi's shoulder. She could feel the tears leaking, dampening the cloth of Chi Chi's blouse. Unperturbed, Chi Chi merely folded Bra closer to her, and Bra felt the woman plant a comforting kiss at the top of her head._

"_You will be fine."_

**}{**

Bra's eyes repeatedly traced the glow of moonlight on her ceiling, turning over thoughts of her pseudo-aunt and her extended family. Her brain was throbbing within its tiny cubicle, and she could not stifle her multitude of thoughts.

Her mind wandered to the Son she had shared her afternoon with, and a weak smile passed over her face as she shut her eyelids against the bright glow that filtered through her window courtesy of the sun's sister.

"You'll be fine," she whispered, his visage blurring around the edges as sleep began to invade and quell her mind.


	5. Chapter 5: Accident, accident, accident!

**Author's Note: **Sorry it took so long to get another chapter up! I'm coming upon finals, so it's been hellabusy. Anyway, this chapter is pretty self-satisfying. Just Bra and Goten, that's all. Please, please, please read and REVIEW! Reviews are important. Your opinion is important. You're the reason in my life, YOU'RE the inspiration!

**These Daydreams, Okay!**

_Chapter 5: Accident, accident, accident!_

The music was cranked so loud, the very walls of the Briefs home were quaking. Pictures hanging off the walls and knick-knacks perched on shelves, mantelpiece, and tables were rattling in their place. The techno was thumping out of the massive speakers in the living room, the beat of the song playing being synched up with a pop-y, feminine set of lyrics spoken in French.

For the day, it seemed the home was empty of all but one young girl. Bra shimmied her way past the speakers and into the kitchen, her bikini-clad hips doing their best to match the pace of the music that threatened to shake the home down to nothing but its foundation. She sang along with the lyrics with a furrowed brow, trying to get the words out properly, as she swung open the fridge door. Bra tried her hardest to match word for word, but her mouth just couldn't keep up as she bent down to closer inspect the contents of the fridge. Smiling around the nonsensical words, she continued singing and procured a can of beer and a white box from the shelves.

_Pop!_ The can fizzed over slightly and she giggled, lifting it to her mouth for a loud gulp. Smacking her lips, she set it back down on the counter and kicked close the refrigerator door behind her before whipping around to trot to the cupboard. Bra retrieved a large glass and set it beside her frosted can, returning then to fridge to gather some ice. Glass, can, and aforementioned white container in her clutches, she all but skipped over to the sliding back doors and pushed them apart with her bare foot. It was a true effort in balance, and such success was met with an even brighter grin from Bra as she met the glow of the sun.

French techno continued to pour into the yard as the blue-haired heiress plopped down on one of the poolside loungers, her goods deposited on the ground beside her. With a pleased sigh, she kicked back, her arms thrown up behind her head as she arched out under the sunlight. Swiftly, Bra ticked her sunglasses down from the top of her head and onto the bridge of her nose. Oversized, slightly larger than the cheeks they were perched atop of now.

It was a diva moment, and she relished in it.

Finally, it was today that Bra had enjoyed true privacy since her return home. She had been a bit spoiled overseas, having essentially lived alone spare the 'round-the-clock protective service that had been employed to ensure her safety. A smirk spread across her lips at the very thought. _Protective service? Laughable. _The hired help had been the least helpful of all.

The harsh blaring of the music dwindled away slowly, as a softer track began in the house. Bra closed her eyes and took in the melody, a heavier sigh expanding her chest. Behind her sunglasses, she studied the clouds through low lashes, admiring the pristine and shimmering with the strands of sunlight woven in them.

**}{**

She could tell she was starting to float on a really good buzz, now. Bra tilted the can into her glass, delicately ridding the aluminum of its amber contents. The ice shifted and tinkled in the glass, winking gold in the sun and brew. Lifting the glass to her mouth, she drew a long sip from it, her brows knitting together as the liquid slid down her throat.

"Aren't you just a little bit too young to be kegging it, kid?"

Bra jumped at the voice, hiding momentarily behind the back of her lounger in terror. After a moment, she poked her head up over its headrest, and she leveled a glower at Goten. The man was standing there with the cheekiest grin and such an open, amused stance she couldn't help but lessen her initial scowl.

Rearranging herself, she twisted her body to sit Indian-style and upright on the lounger, her palms pressed down behind her to prop her up. "I didn't even hear you come by," she marveled with raised eyebrows, her hand reaching out to snatch up her drink again. "And I'm mature for my age." The quip was granted with a sly wink and a toast of her glass, before Bra drained a little more of the liquor.

"With that mess blaring, I don't know how you could even hear yourself think, let alone me," Goten teased as he shuffled closer to her station. His hands were slipped into the back pockets of his slacks as she innocently peered down at the array of items haloing the lounger: sunscreen, cell phone, towels, a number of beer cans, the glass, a hairbrush. He sneered a bit. _What is with women and all their shit? _Goten then spied the unopened carton and immediately gestured for it. There was no hesitation in his following query: "You gonna eat that?"

Bra laughed sharply at his question, envisioning a puppy Goten with his ears perked and his big black eyes hopeful and full of wanting. She shook her head and leaned over to grab the carton from the table beside her. With a tilt of his head, Goten unconsciously observed the trail of sweat and sunscreen that drizzled from Bra's collarbone and into her cleavage. He was focused on one tiny droplet's journey, tracing it from the poetic arch of her clavicle and downwards…

Plucking open the tiny doors of the container, Bra revealed the nearly demolished helping of noodles, vegetables, shrimp, and roti bread. "Help yourself," she proffered the carton up to him. It wasn't until she shook the contents of the container that Goten started, and he retrieved the box from her with a sheepish grin. Taking the chopsticks up, he hefted a dangerous amount out of the box, and he quickly forced it into his mouth.

With a snicker, Bra rolled her eyes at his antics. She looked over his casual attire, his oh-so-manly A-shirt, and khaki short. _Hang-out material_, she considered with slight confusion. "What're you even doing here? Don't you have places to be, women to be _with_?"

Goten gave a dramatic sigh and collapsed into a patio chair adjacent from her lounger, his head falling to meet his chest. "Oh, Bra. Your words – they hurt." He sniffled for emphasis, and he pointed to the left side of his chest. "Right here."

"In your pectoralis major?" Bra teased, pushing her sunglasses back into her blue hair. "And yet you look so tough on the outside."

Forgoing the banter, Goten lifted his chin toward the house. "Trunks' car isn't here. Did he run up to the store or something?"

The question caught Bra off-guard, and she frowned across to Goten. A suspicious look was cast toward the guarding walls of the compound, and then an uncertain look to the group of beer cans at the foot of her lounger. _Was Trunks actually due back?_ No, she knew for that for certain.

_Stop spazzing_, she chided herself. _You're being paranoid._

Bra finally settled, and she shook her head dismissively. "Nooo," she began warily, "He's been at work all day. He'll be there until midnight-ish."

_Again, _his mind whirled with an oncoming nudge of sorrow, _the jerk did it again? _

Goten sat in silence, his mouth agape. Mustering up the energy to try and debate it, he queried, "You're… you're sure? I mean, he got called in or—" He deflated as he watched the certainty unravel on Bra's face. This time, it wasn't a joke; his pectoralis major DID hurt. Or, at least, that vital organ which was buried beneath it did.

"His work day," Bra affirmed this with a nod, and a half shrug. "He's just—ooh! I like this one!" She suddenly deviated from the subject matter at hand, scrambling for the remote at the foot of her lounger. Scooping it up, her thumb landed on the volume button, and the decibel level rose on the stereo within the home.

The song was carried out to them on violins and followed with a slow, gloomy piano. It was a female Japanese voice that swayed out of the speakers and into the yard as Bra turned around to recline again on her lounger.

Bra shut her eyes serenely against the music, rocking her head back and forth with the music. Once the swell of the chorus had past, she opened her left eye to peer across at Goten, who had since placed the unfinished leftovers on the table beside him. He was seated motionless and with his eyes averted as well, staring angry bullets at his reflection in the pool's surface behind him. It was a brief moment that she took to inspect his perturbed expression, and she frowned at his tight browline.

"Goten-kun?"

His big, onyx eyes met Bra's concerned stare, and the corners of his eyes wrinkled with the reassuring smile he flashed her way. "I'm fine, B-chan. I just thought we were gonna hang out today, but I guess I got his schedule wrong." It was an attempt at aloofness, but Bra saw into the signals. Goten slapped his palms down on his thighs and leapt up from the chair. This disgruntled-depressed non-manly emotion was starting to get to him, and he needed to not dwell on it.

"Anyway, I should be going," he shrugged with a forced version of that patented Son grin.

Bra, however, jumped up the moment the words were out of his mouth. "Goten-kun, you don't have to go just 'cause Trunks was an idiot," she offered with a hint of malice directed toward her brother's name. Continuing on despite Goten's shaking of his head, gesturing toward the kitchen doors, "Eat! There's tons in there, and – oh! – beer?" Bra bent down and lifted up one of the empty cans by her chair.

Her efforts earned a chuckle. Goten genuinely smiled at her, reaching over to pat her on the shoulder. His hand slid slightly against her skin and the sticky combination he recalled from before. Quickly, he jerked his hand away with a blush. "Seriously, Bra, it's fine. I'll just stop by later—"

"Hey." Her voice came in clear, even above the now raging J-Rock from with the Briefs home. Goten stopped and lifted his face to her, guilt written across his features. Bra's expression softened and a sympathetic smile drifted on to her face as she lowered herself back down to the lounger. "I do understand y'know? I mean…" she huffed a little bit in her displeasure, shucking off one of her red kitten-heeled sandals, then the other. "How do you think I felt when I came home, and my best friend wasn't even here to welcome me back?"

He felt like a deer in the headlights. This was not a discussion he had meant to get into, and he wasn't exactly sure how to avoid it now. Bra's disheartened expression drew him in, however, and he grudgingly replanted himself in the patio chair. From the contortion of her pretty features, he figured he'd be doing the listening now.

"Did she even say anything?" Bra lifted her teal eyes up to survey Goten's face with a desperation he hadn't expected. Had she really been this hurt by her friend's absence? "Like, not even a 'hey, tell Bra I said…'?"

Goten's silence and awkward glance away was her answer, and Bra huffed and jerked her head to the side. He didn't like seeing her so worked up over something that seemed so trivial. Pan was just like the rest of his family; constantly seeking adventure, needing the thrill. He had completely understood her wanting to take off on her own, as a means to test herself. Hell, for a second there, he had entertained the notion of taking off with his niece. His eyes glazed over with the vague memory of an actual battle – of adventure - it had been so long…

"Goten-kun? You in there?" Bra questioned him a little testily, her head having tipped downward so she could peer up at him through her lashes. He was caught off guard by her intrusive gaze, and he blinked the reminiscing out of his eyes. "A little sympathy would be nice," she grumbled then as she pulled her legs up closer to herself.

_So defensive_. He sighed and leaned out to place a firm, reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Pan-chan just needed to get away. From everything, not _you_," he tacked on the last bit as he saw her eyebrow twitch imperceptibly. "It's just something that she had to do." He understood. Surely Bra would. As she had said, Pan was her best friend. If anyone understood his niece's inner workings, it was Bra.

Instead, however, the azure-haired girl swung her legs around off the lounger, her torso raised upright as she sat to face the other half-saiyan youth. He recoiled a bit at her sudden movement, not liking the level of her stare.

"Had to do?" It was a question that didn't sound like he thought it should. It wasn't entirely inquiring, and it wasn't mocking; it was a statement within a question, and his brain worked itself silly trying to anticipate what was going to come next. Studying his face, Bra continued on almost thoughtfully, though he could see her mind spinning its angry little cogs as she continued, "Like… how Trunks has to go to work and can't just hang out all day anymore?"

Goten's could've collapsed under the dread that rushed through him then. He was half sure she was going to launch into a Bulma-esque tirade, and that scared him. Yet the other half would've welcomed it, instead of her slight challenge of their mutual situations. He sighed and ran his palms over his face, his hands pulling the skin of his cheeks low as he watched her burning in front of him.

"You're right," he conceded, looking away to avoid her mouth twisting in a smirk that could've rivaled her father's. "Trunks is doing what he has to, and I'm being a punk about it," he continued to relent, throwing his hand up in the air before he tucked him behind his neck. Goten tilted his head back, willing the sun to burn away the situation laid out before him.

Bra snickered into her glass as she lifted it to her mouth, "Welcome to the club." After a swig, she snapped her teeth together with a charming grin.

Goten had to let himself smile at her perseverance. He was glad when she returned it with a gentler one of her own. However, his smile nearly tumbled from his face when her warm hand touched his knee.

"Goten, I love you," she admitted plainly. It was as though she were calling the sky blue. He balked at her, and he could feel his skin heat and chill simultaneously as a cold sweat poured over his skin.

"Uh. Bra…" He began warily, uncertain of her assured expression. _What the hell was she even…?_

"Seriously," Bra continued, oh-so-nonchalantly tipping her beer back for another good glug, emptying the glass. Clearing her throat, she explained further, her words beginning to wobble around the consonants. "I'm glad our families are so close."

Goten's entire form could've wept with relief. However, when she shot him a pointed look, he tensed again under her suspicious stare.

She eyed him almost angrily, her glass clinking against the concrete as she set it back down near her feet. "What?" A pout formed now, and he knew that disappointed glower. Memories of unrelenting temper tantrums courtesy of the young woman before him, memories not older than twelve years. His brain strained against the timeline of their lives.

"No 'me too, Bra' or 'ditto' or even a 'yeah'? Chopped liver," the last two words were released with an overtly forlorn look away and he had to actively prevent himself from laughing at her dramatics.

"Bra-chan, you know I'm glad you're around," he assured her with a chuckle. Goten smiled when he watched her intently disappointed expression wane into something akin to satisfaction.

"Good!" Bra chirruped, turning bright eyes upon him. He noticed too late the mischievous glint, before Bra threw her arms forward and tugged the legs of his chair out from under him. He cursed her quickness as his backside collided sharply with the chill of the pool water. Under the chlorinated pond, he could hear her cackles of childish glee, and something sinister wrenched him above the surface.

Before she could make her undoubtedly snappy comment, he lunged upwards and grabbed her by the shin. A good yank, and the pile of bikini-clad flesh toppled over him to join him among the crashing, contained waves. Goten guffawed once she surfaced with a screech, watching with rapt attention as she ran her hands agitatedly through her drenched aqua mane. He off-handedly admired how he couldn't find where her blue tendrils ended and the water began as it splashed up around her.

Angry teal speared him then and for half a second, Goten felt he should've probably feared for his life. But her tiny fists flailing at him suddenly were terrifically laughable, and he did just that as he caught her by the wrists.

"You. Are. An. Ass," she seethed and squirmed, trying to yank herself out of his grasp. "I wasn't even ready!"

"Yeah, 'cause my outfit really needed this?" Goten countered, his voice a deep rumble amid his laughter.

Bra sniffed haughtily and gave a forceful tug of her arms that very nearly had her released. "It'll be an improvement," she mocked him hatefully, and he grinned as he watched her lower lip jut out following her spiteful comment. "Goten, that was really mean."

He was sure this would be where Vegeta melted into a heap of apologetic present-giving, or Trunks caved to his sister before an outburst could be made. Goten was not so easily swayed. It paid to be on the outside looking in; he had defenses against her daughterly-sisterly wiles that seemed to constantly be her father and brother's undoing when faced with this aquamarine hellcat. Goten smirked now as she gave another effort to wring her wrists out of his grasp. "Ah, ah," he chided, twisting her arms inward just enough to enforce his power. He watched her visibly deflate, and he saw (with something reminiscent to pride) the realization behind her eyes when she understood he was immune to her brand of magic. "You want to talk about being mean?" Goten lifted an eyebrow at her, hesitated, then dared her, "Apologize." He could've doubled up in laughter as he watched her aghast expression then.

Shock morphed quickly into indignation. "Fat chance," Bra hissed, eyes narrowed to tiny blue slits. She tugged again away from him, but she knew it was in vain. Bra gritted her teeth and twisted, planting her feet against his abdomen as she tried to kick off him with a grunt, "Lemme go!" Her feet found little purchase against his soaked shirt, the water unrelenting to her efforts.

Goten gasped out an 'ooh!' in surprised appreciation of her ingenuity, but it was no luck. She could've slapped the winning smirk off his face. Bra was not a fan of not getting her way, and there was only so much she could tolerate. Part of her brain felt panicky at the notion of his fists around her tiny wrists, while the rest of her mind throbbed red at being trapped in any way.

A novel thought then wiped away her fury.

_What was that mom always said? "Chance favors only the prepared mind." _

So, Bra prepared herself.

Goten felt a something flip in his stomach when he saw her cock an eyebrow and he caught her tongue darting out to touch her lower lip. He didn't have time to plan for what came then, as suddenly Bra had thrust herself forward into his personal space and pressed her lips to his own. He felt his face flush red hot at her intrusion, his entire body jolting rigid, and he stared into her closed eyelids with an intense fear that overpowered the intimacy of the moment.

His hands still grasped at her wrists, but his arms now stretched out to their length as an effort to get away from her body – unfortunately taking her limbs outward with his. There was significant space between their torsos, spare the connection between his hands on her wrists and her mouth on top of his.

She didn't really expect more than what she got in return, feeling him go stock-still when her lips had connected. She smirked into him at his skittishness and pressed her lips down a little harder. _A little effort wouldn't have hurt_, the thought rippled blindly through her brain as she felt his hands loosen and her arms dropped with a splash in the water. A heartbeat later – her heartbeat, since his had long since fettered to a halt – she finally drew away from him, the barest gap needed to better survey his face all that was allotted between them.

He stared blindly at her, his mouth still parted in awe of her actions. Relief washed over him as she withdrew, though he felt his chest undeniably bending out toward her. Goten watched her there as she buoyed in front of him, her chin tickled by the waves rocking her, her face settling into an almost serene look as she countered his observations. Feeling his heartbeat leap suddenly back to life, he choked a bit on the lump that thundered into his throat, trying to swallow it back down to its place behind his ribs.

It was like the calm before the storm. The realization of her actions was gradual, but after a few long seconds, Bra felt her skull begin to flood and overflow. A pink tinge spread out slowly across her porcelain features, and the soft puffs of his breath were unnerving her.

A block down the road, a car alarm started wailing.

It was a necessary intervention. Goten's eyes flew wide, his mouth moving wordlessly as he twisted violently in the water. Palms down on the cement. Little things were marveling him as he escaped, like the solidity of the ground beneath his hands as he pulled himself up or the retaliating suction of the water as it fought against him.

_Gotta get out of here, this didn't just happen. No way did this just happen. _Goten could visualize himself strung out on a cross, shadows laughing at his corpse. His pulse quickened in his throat at such thoughts.

_This will not end well, oh god. _

His ears burned under her inspection, and he could hear the sloshing of water as she moved toward the shallow end. Goten swallowed thickly and, against his better judgment, he pivoted to find her risen up from the depths and hovering at the pool's mouth. She hesitated by the railing, and Goten cursed himself silent for taking a moment too long to take her in.

Bra could see his teeth gnashing behind tight lips, could feel the flicker of his anxious ki, and her cheeks just burned brighter. Apologetically, she ducked her head and trained her gaze upon her hazy reflection, suddenly feeling demure. A familiar tingle raced down her spine, and Bra whipped her head up to find Goten had clearly disapparated from the Capsule Corp. grounds. She groaned in pure vexation, sinking into the waterline until her bottom had touched the smooth surface of the pool's floor at the foot of the stairs.

The back of her head collided sharply again and again with the railing as she watched the receding ki trace in the sky overhead. _What did you do, what did you do, what did you do…?_


	6. Chapter 6: Always gone!

**Author's Note: **A little family fall out! Trunks and Bra go at it in this chapter, and she escapes ... to where? Hmmm!!

**These Daydreams, Okay!**

_Chapter 6: All is gone away!_

She was absolutely, positively mortified.

The cold, granite surface of her kitchen counter was the only thing that connected her to the earth. She shifted her head upon hearing the front door open and shut, her mother's familiar chatter stirring her shame even deeper. Her cheek stuck almost painfully to the countertop, her eyes still glassed over from two parts shock and inebriation. Only until Bulma came into her field of vision did Bra finally begin peeling her face up from the counter.

"Yes, that's fine," Bulma told the receiver of her cell phone, her eyes trained upon her child. She nodded mindlessly to whatever was being said. "Okay, sure. Just have them send it over in the morning. Ja!" She closed the phone once the conversation had been completed, depositing the sleek black object into her purse. "Bra? You look terrible, sweetie, what's wrong?"

Warmth towards her motherly ways rushed through Bra and she let her head collapse, her chin touching her collar. She felt Bulma's hand touch the top of her head and brush through her blue hair, and Bra struggled against confession. "I… I just don't feel well," she lied, momentarily regretting how convincing she sounded.

"Oh, here, let me take a look at you," Bulma urged her chin up so she could better look into her daughter's face. She tugged Bra's chin gently from left to right, inspecting her countenance. "You've been out in that dreadful summer heat all day," she observed with a cluck of her tongue, releasing her daughter and turning to reach up to one of the high cabinets. Her back now turned to Bra, Bulma continued in a sterner tone, "And just because your father and I are out does not mean you can raid the fridge for unguarded liquor, little girl."

Bra froze and felt her complexion redden. She caught her mother glaring at her out of the corner of her eye, and she ducked her gaze to stare at her open palms. "Gomen ne," she uttered as a sigh, before tossing her hair over her shoulder and re-righting herself to better look upon her mother. "You know I wouldn't do anything bad," she grumbled then, feeling a bitterness rise up from her stomach.

"Not the point," Bulma reprimanded, coming back to Bra with a couple of pills and a glass of water. "Here." She placed the orange capsules and glass in front of her child, standing across from her at the opposite side of the counter. "Point is you know better."

With a groan, Bra tossed the pills in her mouth and knocked back half the glass of water. Who was her mother to point the finger? Bulma was the poster child for doing-despite-knowing-better, if any of the stories she had heard were at all true. Bra sneered and placed the glass down, her arms folding across her chest. "Mom, how can you let me go to America all by myself, but when I have a couple of drinks here – in my own home – you go absolutely bananas?"

Bulma leaned in closer to her daughter, and against her better judgment, Bra reciprocated and arched forward toward her mother's nearing presence. "You'd do best to watch it," Bulma warned, her eyes narrowing upon her daughter's glare. "You don't know what I may or may not know about your overseas antics, Bra."

Her combativeness receded, and Bra drew away from her mother warily. _There was no way she knew, right?_ Her brain flickered rapid-fire through memories of raucous nights, of hardcore partying, of America's socialites, of VIP booth shenanigans, and a handful of one night stands. She worried momentarily if her mother could read her mind, because she found Bulma blushing almost as hard as she.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Bra was proud she didn't stutter over her words, her chin tilting upward in defiance. "I was antic-free, mom."

"Yeah, I'm sure you were miserable." Both blue-haired women turned to find Trunks lounging against the door frame, his briefcase slung over his shoulder. Boiling magma dripped down into the pit of Bra's stomach as she wondered how long he'd been standing there. "By the way," he continued on, setting his briefcase on the kitchen table, "How're those crazy Hiltons doing, anyway? Whoo, that Paris," Trunks whistled and rolled his eyes. "She's a pistol."

His smarminess was royally enraging her. "Shut up, Trunks," Bra snapped and pushed off from her stool at the counter. "You don't know shit, okay?"

"Yeah, okay, okay," Trunks relented, his hands held up in submission. "And neither does Globe or the National Enquirer, right?"

"Stop antagonizing your sister," Bulma interjected, stepping into the distance Bra was beginning to close toward her brother. "Bra, just … go on, what's done is done, head upstairs and—"

"_Nothing_ was 'done', okay?" Bra countered angrily, her fierce glare still locked on Trunks. "And Trunks, why don't you worry about your friends before you start bothering yourself with my personal life?"

The smirk fell from Trunks' face. She felt a wave of satisfaction crash over her and spur on her confrontational demeanor, and it grew as he stepped closer toward her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"All I'm saying," she began, in that sickly sweet voice she knew would rile him, "is that you should learn to be a little more considerate. Some people might think you're a bad friend."

"Stop talking in fucking riddles, Bra," Trunks ground out.

"Trunks!" Bulma's sharp voice cut through, but it only sparked the tensions further. "You two, this is enough—"

Bra laughed over her mother, her hands curling around her hips cockily. "What riddles? You're the douche who doesn't know how to call his 'best friend'," her fingers leapt from her hips to make air quotes above the term, "and tell him his right schedule." With a derisive smile, Bra tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Seriously, if I have to see Goten walk in here with his sad puppy eyes looking for you again?"

Trunks looked baffled by his sister's words, completely confused by where she was coming from. Goten had come looking for him? But he had told him his schedule eons ago. "What did he say?" He wondered aloud, looking over his sister expectantly. "I mean, was he—"

"Pissed?" Bra snorted. "Well, YEAH. Really, you'd think you'd have better manners. Especially considering you guys are such _good _friends," she added, a final 'harrumph' of defiance wedged in as she turned her head to the side and folded her arms across her chest. "It's a wonder he even still wants to hang around you."

"Maybe he should talk to Pan," Trunks spit out fiercely.

It was like a bucket of cold water had been poured on Bra. She twisted to fix her brother with a surprised look, feeling the hurt ebb into her expression. But what was a blow to her pride merely served to prod the flames of rage. "What the hell does—"

Oh, how the tables had turned. Bra clenched her fists, agonizing over the smugness that graced her brother's face. "Bra, she didn't even wanna stick around for you to come home," he laughed, ignoring the urgency with which his mother was waving her hands at him. "What the hell does that say about _you_?"

The space between them was only large enough to fit Bulma between them. The pleadings of their mother to calm down and back off were completely lost on the siblings by now.

"You. Are--" Bra began to seethe, but the words suddenly jolted her memory: _the same words, her lips on Goten's. _Suddenly, she shot her arms out, her palms pressing firmly against Trunks' chest to shove him away from her. The strength she employed was a little much, and her brother hit the wall behind him with a rattle.

"BRA!" Bulma shouted over Trunks' angry curses, and she rounded on her daughter who had begun to retreat for the living room. "You cannot— Oh, _no_! Trunks, _don't_!" Bulma's impending lecture was put on hold as her eldest had lunged after his sister.

The young girl whipped around with a snarl, trying to yank her arm out from between Trunks' hands. "Let me go, you asshole—"

"What the fuck is your problem, lately?" Trunks growled, shaking his sister sharply. "You've been nothing but a bitch since the day you got home. I'm fucking sick of it."

Bra felt something white-hot inching up her spine, and she bared her teeth as she tried to pull away again. When Trunks' grasp proved unrelenting, she brought her other hand up to pry him off, but he quickly caught her other hand and held her still. "Trunks, I swear to GOD—"

Her threat fell on deaf ears as Trunks rocked her body forcefully again. "I'm so sick of your attitude, of your whining and griping," he pressed on, and when Bra lifted her knee to try and nail him in the stomach, he pushed her against the wall to hold her there. He distantly could hear Bulma calling out for their father. "You've been awful to mom, to me, to everyone! "

She struggled under his grasp, her fingers working to try and scratch at the flesh of his knuckles. Bra felt a fog of anger cloud her mind, and things were beginning to turn red around the edges. "How would you even know?! You're barely ever home anyway! "

"Maybe, like everyone else, I just want to get away from your constant bitching!" Trunks groaned in aggravation, rolling his eyes at his sister. "Some of us have actual lives—"

"Yeah, you've got a real life up there in your stupid little office," Bra interjected loudly, trying to aggressively shake him off her. "So much of a life that you can't even make room for your friends or, oh, hey, Marron?"

The name-drop caught him off guard. Trunks' hold on Bra's hands slid, and Bra took that opportunity to withdraw her hands from her brother's clutches. In that window provided by Trunks' shock, Bra lifted her tiny fist and swung forward violently, her knuckles connecting viciously with Trunks' jaw.

It felt like all the air was sucked up out of the room in that instance, as Trunks staggered backward and fell on his bottom, as both her parents rushed into the room. Slowly, Bra felt the noise level inch back up to normalcy, and she heard the collective gasp of her parents to her left. At her feet, she saw her brother sitting there, a look of complete awe on his face as he cupped his jaw.

"Bra."

Vegeta's strong voice sounded stark against the rest of the scenery. Her innards undulated with a foreign sickness as she registered her fist still hanging in the air, and she immediately dropped her arm to her sides, turning to face her father.

"What did you do?" Bulma hissed, her shaky distress still evident as she glanced quickly from one child to the other.

She was at a loss. Bra's mouth moved like a guppy out of water as she stared down at her brother, her cheeks suddenly feeling hot with embarrassment. "I-I don't…"

Trunks had seemingly had his fill of the tension that laced throughout the room, forcing himself up to his feet, his hand still braced against his face. "Whatever. I'm upstairs," he grunted to his parents. As he whirled around to jog up the stairs, Trunks kept his gaze averted from his sister.

"I really didn't mean to do that," Bra breathed out hastily once Trunks had vanished into his personal hallway, twirling to look upon her parents imploringly. "It was just—"

"It was just _what_?" Bulma began to round upon her daughter now. "Bra, you and your brother have _never _been allowed to strike one another, what even makes you think—"

"Did he grab you?" Vegeta interrupted, his eyes trained on Bra.

Bulma growled, "What the hell does it matter, Vegeta?!"

As her parents began to fall into a verbal feud of their own, Bra wondered at her decelerating heartbeat and the fading fury that had coursed through her veins. She had gotten so mad… so _infuriated_. As far back as she could remember, she had never physically meant her brother harm, spare childhood kicks, scrapes, and bites. She felt ashamed of her actions. She had been childish to taunt him, especially concerning Marron, but thinking of his disregard for his friends – for Goten – enraged her.

Not to mention that in retrospect, he could've kicked her ass. Not that he would've, but he could've.

Taking their argument as opportunity, Bra spun on her heel and quickly made for the front door. Bulma and Vegeta only heard the slam following her exit, finally looking up from their argument with dismay and fury.

"What is wrong with that girl?"

Bulma's query went unanswered by Vegeta, who had proceeded forward to the front window. With a single gloved finger, he pushed the curtain aside to spy his only daughter lifting into the sky. His brow knitted, and his lips fell into a frown.

**}{**

"You HIT HIM?"

Bra couldn't make eye-contact with the blonde sitting across from her. She sipped timidly at her punch. Despite her downcast gaze, she could feel Marron gaping at her, and finally she tilted her head up to meet her stare.

"He had me against a wall," she managed out with only a smidgen of conviction. "And he grabbed me!" There was a frazzled lilt to her voice now as she slammed the glass down upon the table.

Marron's hands reached up to fend off the younger girl's defense. "I'm not attacking, Bra-chan, you know that," she chided gently, a knowing look leveled at her companion. "It's just … you know what Trunks is capable of," Marron chose her route tactfully, managing to keep herself looking 'occupied' by pouring them both refills of fruit punch. "Why would you even take a chance at making a swing?"

She was at a loss for an explanation, there. Bra averted her azure eyes once more; instead she took the time to admire the rim of her glass. As she felt the expectant sigh release from Marron, she rolled her eyes. "I was mad at him," she murmured. "He can be… so hateful and self-centered, sometimes." Marron's silence suggested she continue, and so Bra did. "I mean, take for instance your thing with him," she lifted a hand to gesture to the blonde, who recoiled with a blush. "He's too absorbed in his own world to even pay you the slightest modicum of attention, and it's sad."

Unwittingly, Bra figured she had hit a sore spot in her friend, as she witnessed Marron's pleasant demeanor shift quickly into a somewhat melancholy state. "I'm sorry—" she began to amend, but Marron's hand cut her off again.

"What really got under your skin?" Marron questioned, her voice sounding as though she was attempting to relieve them of the subject of her not-relationship with the Briefs son. "I mean, I'm touched if…"

Bra giggled, the contents of her glass echoing the girlish noise. "Well, you were part of it," she offered with an arch of her eyebrow. "But it was mostly because of Goten." This part was uttered in a quieter tone, and Marron easily perceived the aquamarine woman's mood fluctuate with the single name.

"Bra-chan … what happened?" Marron urged her, concern growing on her face. "Why did—"

"He keeps coming over, looking for Trunks!" Bra gushed with a frustrated sigh as she threw herself back against the couch cushions. Protectively, she laced her arms together, staring pointedly at the wall just behind Marron. "And Trunks never tells him he's busy or that he's out, so then Goten gets all hurt and," her voice began to teeter into a sympathetic note, "… and I feel so bad for him."

Contemplative silence weighed between the two, both understanding and equally despising the predicaments in which their friendships were wound. After a moment, Bra's breath hitched. "There's … something else." Looking up, she found Marron looking at her with rapt attention. _The girl could smell a juicy secret a mile away._ "I may or—" she heaved in a deep breath, finishing the rest on her exhale, "maynothavekissedGoten."

"You—you what?"

Bra blushed and reached out and wrapped her tiny fingers tight around her glass, threatening to shatter it. "It wasn't intense, just a peck, like—"

"Like, on the cheek, or-or-?"

"Peck, lips." Pause, then Bra's cheeks glowed cherry. "Not exactly a peck, but he didn't … reciprocate."

The relief expelled on Marron's sigh aggravated Bra for some reason. "Bra-chan, that's just … wrong," she ran her fingers through her loose golden strands. "Goten-kun's like your brother."

Instinctively, Bra wrinkled her nose. "Not so much." Any snide remarks that could've possibly followed were relented to her better senses, and Bra sank deeper into the couch, pulling her glass with her.

"Why would you even go there?" Marron wondered aloud, almost sounding off-handed as she rose from the floor. She had the pitcher of punch in hand, and she was padding toward the kitchen to return it to the fridge.

The question had been raging like a typhoon within Bra's brain for the last handful hours, yet the verbalization of it from a second party struck the chords of her heart and mind in a different way. Heavily, she stared down into the sparkling pink liquid in her glass, pondering.


	7. Chapter 7: Lighthouse!

**Author's Note: **I AM A WRITING MACHINE! Chuga-chuga! ....Yeah, okay, no. Anyway, decided to go ahead and throw up chapter 7. Get it out of the way, before I have to start studying for finals and rushing to finish up late homework. Ah, the college life. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE keep reading and REVIEWING!

**These Daydreams, Okay!**

_Chapter 7: Lighthouse!_

The tidal breeze was simply blissful, and it seemed to be a cure Bra could turn to. The blue-tressed girl sat at the foot of Kame House's porch, her face turned out to accept the billowing air from the sea that relieved the tiny hermitage of the summer's wrath. She sighed heavily, opening her eyes to survey her surrounding landscape sadly. Bra had spent most of the afternoon shut up in the home with Marron, mulling over her girly woes and familial troubles, and she momentarily found herself overwhelmed by gratitude toward her pseudo-therapist.

Dusk was beginning to settle over their slice of the world, and Bra amused herself with the fresh twinkling of the stars overhead.

_You're just waking up_, she pondered the bullets of light, _and life is so quiet for you. You're so lucky. But you're so far away … you must be lonely, right? _

The sudden pang in her heart caused her to bend her torso closer to her legs. Images of her ebony haired best friend filtered into her mind, and instead of the usual anger and resentment that outlined her memory, Bra allowed herself the flourish of loneliness.

_I wish you were here, Pan. You'd keep me in check, wouldn't you?_

With a sniffle, she ducked her head and placed her face in between her drawn-up knees. _What do I do? Trunks was right_, Bra thought bleakly as she blinked salty droplets into her skin. "God, why do I have to be such a brat?"

"'Cause it's what you're good at?"

The teasing voice sent an inexplicable chill down Bra's back. _Or did it start before he even said anything? _Tentatively, she peeked a big blue eye up from the crevice between her knees, spying Son Goten standing a safe distance away from her. With a sigh, she sat upright, her hands gripping at the edge of the wooden stair upon which she was perched. Bra found, much to her dismay, she couldn't find a word to utter in response.

Goten felt the mechanics of his brain whirring heartily under the pressure of being confronted with the little bundle of aqua that was in front of him. He had hoped he could relieve himself the war being waged in his mind by having a sit-down with the only person he thought had all their marbles. However, it looked like the resident go-to girl was booked for the evening. "Marron inside?" He wondered lamely, his head nodding toward the front door of Kame House.

"She is," Bra offered, a glance cast back over her shoulder toward the home. "I decided to give her ears a rest and grab some air." Sighing, she pushed a hand through her cerulean waves, tucking a thick lock behind her ear. She felt edgy having him so nearby now, so soon after what had transpired. Bra could've kicked herself; it was her fault, anyway. What business did she have treating Goten like she could contract the plague from him?

All that seemed missed by Goten, however, as he grunted to himself and glared down at the sparse grass under his feet. "What, uh…?" He wasn't sure how to word the question without sounding like an ass. He was annoyed with how badly he wanted to know if she had been talking about him. Glancing up, he found Bra looking away from him and out to sea. Her expression was one of dread and sadness, and he instantly knew it went beyond their poolside antics earlier. And he didn't like that. _What was really going on here?_ "Bra, what's wrong?"

His concern drew her out of her trance, and she turned her head slowly to look at him. He looked so kind, standing there, waiting and worried for her. Bra hated the sickness welling up in her stomach and the forceful yanks dragging her heart up into her esophagus. "Trunks and I got in a fight," she admitted after a moment, her head hanging slightly under the weight of the statement.

Goten was apparently not expecting this as an option to explain her woe, and he unconsciously took a step toward her. "Like, with words?"

Bra snorted scornfully. "No, with fists." She glanced up at him from underneath her bangs, torn between surprise and bemusement at his consternation. Then, an emotion crossed him that she didn't foresee: anger.

"Wait, did he hit you?" Goten spat out in a tone Bra didn't think she recognized. "What happ—"

"_I_ hit _him_," she cut Goten's furious wondering off. She was amused by his surprised step back, but she continued nevertheless, "We got into an argument, and … y'know what? It doesn't matter. I mean, I'm totally grass when I get home," Bra trailed off with a groan, her face falling into her palms. "Why is he such a jerk?" She muffled into her hands.

Cautiously, Goten proceeded toward the girl. He felt a wave of anxious nausea crash as he got closer to her. _Like I'm still in middle school_, he chided himself. Finally settling himself on the corner of the same step she sat on, he secretly hated himself for his embarrassment. "You're really bent up about this, Bra," he observed with a mild hint of worry, as he tried to push his anxiety down for her benefit. "I mean, you and Trunks argue all the time…"

Bra jerked her head up with a cry of frustration, turning an irritated glance to the man at her side. However, his proximity immediately ripped the aggravation from her body, and she tensed in apprehension instead. "We … said some pretty cheap things," she blushed at the stumble of her words, rolling her eyes at herself. _You're pretty cheap_, she mentally railed herself for the butterflies hatching in her tummy. "I mean, I brought up Marron-" she paused for Goten's sympathetic hiss and grimace, "-and he brought up Pan. It was kind of a mess."

Pity for Bra and self-pity of his own racketed in Goten's chest. He wondered selfishly why he hadn't been part of the argument, though under the knowing glance Bra shot him, his self-consciousness waned. He had been a part of the Briefs Family drama? _But then_... that nausea was creeping up again…

"Bra, you-- you didn't tell your family that…?" He trailed off, a fear for his life chasing his heartbeat higher and higher.

The azure girl chuckled to herself, feeling her own timidity wash away like the waves hitting the shoreline. His unease seemed to relieve her. "No," she said quietly, her head shaking negative. "I don't want you dead, Goten-kun."

"Then what do you want?" The question was out quicker than he had time to process the words, and his cheeks burned up under her sudden stare. Goten felt like a dozen swords were stabbing painfully at his sides as he registered the trepidation and fear that crossed over the planes of Bra's features. And inwardly, he echoed the question to himself, as he found himself wading through the blue of her eyes.

It struck him how very wrong this scenario was. How he should feel completely grossed out by her closeness, how he should be ashamed to delve into such dangerous territory. Bra was like his kid sister, wasn't she? The very definition of a spoiled brat and, to his chagrin, infinitely out of his league; she was the princess of a forgotten throne and the heiress to a multi-billion dollar company. Goten could recall how she – unbeknownst to everyone else – could really get under his skin without even trying. Being around her felt like walking on pins and needles, he was never sure what to do with her. She made him aggravated and nervous, thankful he had been blessed with a brother and envious of the liberties her life rewarded her.

But here she was, pretty and genuine and unnaturally blue under the rising moonlight - picturesque in her very appearance. He confronted the urge to reach out and touch her hair, so tempting under the night – _god, what was wrong with him--?_

Tug-of-war was rampant with Bra's heartstrings as she vaguely noticed the shortening of his breath. His question carried little weight initially, but when deposited between them there, it meant more than it probably should've. The benefit of being with enough men was that she instantaneously knew that hazy stare Goten was fixing her with now; it made her insides turn to jelly. She remembered this feeling, when she was a little girl, watching the two boys battle in her backyard. Even then, Goten was puzzlingly handsome, devoid of negativity, and – _why was she being a mushy little mess--?_

The creaking of Kame House's front door startled both, Goten reflexively jumping up from his place beside Bra. He felt suddenly sweaty and awkward as Marron stepped out on to the veranda and surveyed the duo with a suspicious look_._ Bra flushed under the blonde's scrutiny, as she tried to find the most innocent expression in her arsenal.

"Goten-kun," was Marron's only verbal observation of the situation, and Goten and Bra both marveled at the stoicism radiating off of the usually chipper blonde. "I didn't expect to see you here so late."

"I just—I was gonna talk to you, but—" Goten stuttered, his hand reaching to scratch self-consciously at the back of his head. Nervously, he chuckled, "I guess Bra beat me to you."

Marron merely hummed in acceptance of his excuse. It seemed to be enough, as she turned then upon Bra, a much more sisterly approach directed to the younger girl. "Bra-chan, your mom just called. She really wishes that you'd come home."

Bra exhaled heavily, rising up from the step and brushing off her backside. "Did she sound mad?" She queried warily, her arms folding across her midriff. She felt Goten's eyes upon her, and she shot him a curious glance out of the corner of her eye. He shifted from one foot to the other, almost antsy in his movements. The barest trace of a grin tilted her lips upwards.

"No," Marron smiled, though an odd look was angled Goten's way, and the man stopped moving at once. "…Just worried, kind of tired. You can stay tonight, if you'd like, though." Another wave crashed upon the shore, and she offered the two an awkward, if not apologetic, smile and retreated into Kame House's interior again.

The tension that hung in the air gradually dissipated, and both Bra and Goten exhaled in relief. Neither chose to acknowledge the other's presence primarily, but Goten conceded and turned to fully face her, a blush present on his cheeks. "You should … probably go. Y'know, to call her back," he suggested half-heartedly, no real emphasis behind his words.

Taking the hair tie from her wrist, Bra bundled up her blue mane (Goten was sad to see her locks drawn away from her face) into a high ponytail. She smiled fleetingly, something between embarrassment and, oh-so-foreign to her features, shyness. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen Bra exhibit anything akin to being _shy._

Hesitantly, she began to move towards him, and he was both disappointed and relieved that she stopped midway. He could see her second guessing, and he nodded in understanding as she turned to make her way up the wooden steps. She paused at one of the banisters, quickly looking over him once more. "I might've said … some stuff," she started, the guilt rising in her voice as she refused to make eye-contact with Goten. "About you, to Trunks."

Goten's heart plummeted, as his brain raced ahead to try and figure out what she could've possibly divulged_. Fuck, fuck, fuck…_

"I told him about how you've come over a couple times looking for him, and—" Bra faltered, noticing the realization and consequent annoyance pass over Goten's countenance. "I was just trying to piss him off," she mumbled, not all too pleased with the chastising stare Goten was leveling at her.

"Trying to piss _who_ off?" He lifted a hand to his ear, as though he had not heard her properly. She made a snotty little noise and looked away, and if Goten weren't so aggravated that his little pity-parties had been revealed to Trunks, he'd probably find her petulance endearing. "Don't use me to get under your brother's skin, okay? Just promise me that," he muttered, running a hand over his forehead to subside the headache growing there.

Bra sighed and nodded in acceptance, and she moved to march into Kame House in defeat. However, she stopped in her tracks and twirled around to face him, her features lit up as she opened the door and held it still with one hand. "I promise, Goten-kun," she affirmed once more, and now her expression dropped into teasingly, and he felt apprehension and something unattainable rush through him as she continued on, "But then what else am I supposed to use you for?"

It took Goten several seconds to find the composure necessary to evacuate. Taking off into the air, he had to put as much distance as possible between himself and _her._

**}{**

When she got home that night, it was essentially what she had expected. Bulma and Vegeta stationed in the family sitting room, Trunks nowhere to be found. Her mother instructed her to sit while her father simply glowered at her, and Bra did as she was told with naught a sound.

"Now, we're going to talk about this," Bulma began slowly, her hands folding in her lap as she scooted closer to Vegeta. "First of all, you had no business just … running out of here, young lady."

Bra nodded quietly, her eyes remaining still upon her parents. She wondered to herself if her father ever blinked…

"Well?" Bulma's voice snapped her back to the present, and Bra shimmied uncomfortably at her mother's wickedness.

"I'm… I just had to get out," Bra hustled for an answer, any explanation. But if Vegeta's harsh grunt was any indication, her parents were not to be had this evening.

"You were 'out' for a year," her father stated in his usual dark tone, never once breaking the stare with his daughter. "We would think you'd be tired of 'getting out' by now."

Bra felt a hot, indignant flash flip her brain over, and when she opened her mouth, Bulma quickly interrupted her. "We are not here to attack, Vegeta," she ground out, her fingers reaching up to pinch the skin of his forearm. "We're here to find out what's wrong—"

"There's_ nothing _wrong—" Bra whined, feeling that trapped sensation all over again, her senses flooding with irritation now.

"Well, you don't just haul off and get into a fight with Trunks for _nothing_—" Bulma spoke loudly over her daughter, both of their arguments drowning one another. They bickered between one another for several minutes over what was bothering Bra, nothing was, you hit him, he grabbed me, you have been acting funny, I told you it's nothing, is this about Pan, why would you even say that—

"Enough," Vegeta's sharp voice came from beside Bulma, and both women halted their respective diatribes. "I am tired of … _this_," he growled, gesturing out between the two women. "I will settle this now." He rose from the couch and towered over his daughter, and Bra noticed that any solace she might've found in his presence had quickly vanished.

"Until you apologize to both your mother and your brother – and any others you have grievances with," he held up a hand to silence whatever words were to trail out of Bra's still opened mouth. "And until you show reform in your lackluster attitude, you will be limited to only this house and the Corporation."

As Bra lifted herself up from her adjacent couch, he took a step closer toward her, and Bra quickly re-planted herself upon the cushions. "Make no mistake, Bra. I have no care for your petty woes. Your arguments have been shallow and your attitude of late has been nothing short of miserable," Vegeta pressed on, his tone bearing no threat but his words carrying definite weight. Bra felt crushed by his honesty, and she could taste the tears that were on their way.

"We're glad that you're home," Bulma stated assuredly, though softly, a sympathetic look situated upon her child. "We _are_. But you've been angry, lashing out … if you need time, then_ take_ the time. But we do not expect to see you acting like you did today, do you understand?"

Wordlessly, Bra nodded, and she sniffled to herself as she got up. When she looked upwards, she found Vegeta still standing there, staring deeply at her. His face was often so unreadable and indefinable, but somehow, she always knew what he was thinking. _It's okay_. Abruptly, she moved forward to wrap her arms around his neck, and he unfalteringly reciprocated the hug, pulling her into his fatherly embrace.

As she drew back, Bra smiled up at him, and she appreciated the half up-turn of his mouth. On tip-toe, she pecked his lips chastely and he relinquished her from his arms. However, an arm reached out to catch her by the elbow, and Bra twisted to face her father in surprise. Vegeta was transfixed by his child, seemingly perturbed by something not evident to Bra. "Nani? Daddy?"

With her question, he released her and turned his head away. He was mute as he moved to leave the living room, abandoning his wife and child for the night. Bra remained conflicted by her father's reaction, her hand playing idly with her lower lip as she pondered his vacating. Bulma watched after him with uncertainty, glancing between his retreating form and their daughter. Releasing a heavy breath, she rose and met her daughter in a couple of steps, and she placed a kind hand on her shoulder.

Bulma's entrance into her personal range startled her, but she offered the barest of smiles for her mother's silent sign. Bulma leaned forward and placed a kiss at Bra's temple, before she moved past her and toward the ascending staircase.


	8. Chapter 8: Second Best!

**Author's Note: **It's the beginning of finals week, and my first one went tragically. I needed to make myself feel better, so I decided to make Bra miserable in this chapter! Yay! Bulma and Vegeta -- or, well, Bulma anyway -- seem like they'd come up with really creative ways to punish their children for misbehavior. A good ol' fashioned grounding is nothing fun, so why not add a spin to it?

As always, I hope you guys enjoy! Please keep reviewing, you guys are awesome. :)

**These Daydreams, Okay!**

_Chapter 8: Second Best!_

It was amazing how the landscape could change in four days' time. Bra marveled at this fact as she lay in the grass outside, staring into the bright, wide sky. The painful glitter of the sun caused her eyes to burn and well with tears, but she blinked them out and they trailed down the corners of her temple. She was so intensely bored – grounding was turning out to be something she wasn't sure she could handle.

Bra had been almost certain Vegeta would alleviate her punishment within a day. However, her father remained strong in his stance, unmoving to Bra's pleads and sweet demeanor. It especially didn't help her case when he caught her in a tiff with Bulma, griping about the dinner her mother had been preparing.

She sighed and rolled over on to her side, finding herself staring into a pair of steel-tipped black boots. Blinking, Bra lifted her gaze higher and higher to find her father above her, his arms folded as per usual, and an unfortunate glower upon his face. She was steadily becoming upset with her father's displeasure in her behavior – he was supposed to be on _her_ side, not everyone else's.

"Get up, Bra," Vegeta ordered, though it lacked the force with which he tended to deliver commands.

Argument was her first option, but Bra quickly railed herself and switched gears as she rose up as told. She dusted little green blades from her shoulders and backside, offering her father a timid grin. "Hi, daddy. What's up?"

"You will not be laying about the house," he told her, his mouth twitching downward. "It accomplishes nothing." And, really, if he had to see her moping anymore…

Her jaw tightened, and she crossed her arms – oh, the similarities between them. "This was your punishment choice, daddy," she reminded with a raised eyebrow. "You said I had to stay home--"

"Or," he began to intercede, an uncertain look upon his face as he stared down at his daughter, "the Corporation."

She knew that something was meant by his words. His expression was trying to give it away without saying it. Yet Bra found her father curiously unreadable, like he was holding back at the same time. "So? What am I gonna do at the Corporation? Besides accomplish more 'nothing', that is," she mended sardonically with air-quotes.

Vegeta leaned forward to his daughter, and she immediately dropped the smart-ass act. "Your mother has found a job for you that will wholly make up for the misconduct," his voice was stern, and Bra let her gaze settle on the space between their feet. "You will dress in the _proper_ attire," he emphasized the word, a knowing look dropped down over her figure, "and meet your mother at her office. She'll have further instruction when you get there."

Bra could've let her mouth fall to the floor in shock. "Daddy..." she began, her voice rising in a sort of panicky lilt, "I-I can't work there, I don't know—"

Clucking his tongue, Vegeta reached over to draw his daughter closer by her shoulder. Bra was pliant under his direction, and she was maneuvered toward the glass doors that led into their home. "You're going to," he told her certainly, "and you don't have to know. Just do as you're told." He gave her a tiny push, and Bra trotted forward a few steps. She turned back, a heartbroken look on her face. It was her last shot.

_C'mon, daddy… _she pleaded silently of her father, who looked to be on the precipice of caving in. _You know what you should do…_

Vegeta's eyebrows relented and his countenance softened, and Bra breathed a sigh of relief.

**}{**

"Fucked, fucking, FUCK!" Bra yelled unabashedly, her fists pounding against her steering wheel with each swear. She was stationed in her aircar, parked in the garage that sat adjacent to the towering Capsule Corporation buildings.

A shrill scream ripped from her throat as she jerked forcefully on the wheel. Her tantrum drew to an immediately halt, however, when the dashboard threatened to give under her ministrations. With a growl, she threw her fist one more time into the wheel, and a good portion of it bent downwards with the force.

Caught up in her tizzy, she all but snatched her purse from the passenger seat and climbed out of the car.

**}{**

There were people everywhere. Like little ants, crawling around, all mindlessly working towards the same purpose: for Capsule Corporation's benefit. She'd only been inside the actual corporation a handful of times in her life – mostly when she was just a toddler, her realization accompanied by vague memories of random workers ohhing and ahhing at her utter adorableness – and once before she left for New York.

As people bustled by her with no excuse for their briskness, Bra found herself insulted with their lack of respect for her. Here she was, daughter of the company's queen, and they weren't paying her a second look. _Well, some of them are_, she smirked upon a small cluster of men who kept taking looks at her from across the room.

Bra started forward to the high elevator, her finger touching to the 7. While waiting, she double-checked her appearance in the reflective metal doors. Her hair had been barely touched by her curling iron, the loose aquamarine ringlets pulled into a high ponytail and her bangs clipped aside with black pins. _Proper attire?_ She sneered at her black suit jacket, which covered a sheer red blouse that had ruffles along the buttoned front. However, she managed to find a couple of pieces that prevented her from looking like a total shrew: a tight black pencil skirt and a pair of patent black heels. Maybe business-wear wasn't all _that _bad.

A ding sounded from overhead and the doors parted her reflection in half. She allowed the gaggle of messengers and business-suited workers to spill out, before she took those brave steps into the compartment.

The elevator was pretty spacious and it included a wrap-around bench. Sitting to one side, she took little notice of the gentleman across from her. However, Bra could certainly feel that he had noticed her. She glanced at the rows of buttons and saw that floor 8 was illuminated. _Great, he's along for the ride_, she thought bitterly, not really in the mood for company to her doom.

"Hi," his voice finally came once they hit level 3. Bra kept her eyes trained on the door, pretending she had not heard him. "Are you new here? You don't look—"

Immediately annoyed with him, Bra tilted her head to the side. "I'm not supposed to talk to strangers," she cut in without even gracing him with a look.

He laughed. _Cute laugh_, she noticed off-handedly. "Aren't you a little old for that adage?"

Bra turned to him and raised a blue brow. He was pretty good-looking; she had to give him that. Short black hair, brown eyes, black suit with green button-up. She'd have approved if he hadn't looked like he teetered somewhere in his early-thirties.

"It's an age-old adage and…" she gave him another quick once-over and smirked to herself as the ding sounded their arrival to floor 7. She got up, swinging her purse strap over her shoulder as she continued, "…I think _you're _a little old for_ me_." Bra said it with all the backhanded sweetness she could muster, her smirk dancing somewhere between amusement and disgust.

Instead of souring at her words, the man laughed aloud, and Bra couldn't help herself – she smiled at him. She turned to exit the compartment, blushing as she heard him call after, "Hope you have a good day, little girl!"

**}{**

She hated waiting. What's more, she hated waiting for torture. It was a shimmer of turquoise that caught her attention, and she swiveled to face her mother, who was looking a little apprehensive about her daughter's apparition there within her company.

"Bra-chan," Bulma greeted warmly despite her expression, enfolding her daughter into a hug. Bra half-heartedly welcomed it. She was quick to withdraw from her mother's embrace, settling a grumpy look upon her mother. "So, your father told you, then?"

"No," Bra sighed, her eyes flickering toward the hall from where her mother strode. In doing so, she missed Bulma's slight discoloration. "He said you'd tell me when I got here."

Bulma blanched and sighed, her hand coming up to cover her eyes against something unseen to Bra. After a moment, Bulma finally lifted her face up with an unfamiliar smile. Bra's stomach sank between her knees, a sense of foreboding racing down her back.

"So he did!" Her mother stated unnaturally bright and loud, and Bra could see something flash behind her mother's eyes. "Well, fine, I'll tell you." Bulma steadied herself, her head tilting up fearlessly toward her daughter. There was a delay, which was met with an expectant inclination of Bra's head.

"You're Trunks' secretary for the week." Bulma was quick to deliver her response, before she made to brace herself against the receptionist counter. The blonde secretary merely looked between the two azure-hued women, a look of sheer confusion spread across her features.

Outside the 7th floor of Capsule Corporation, a flock of pigeons disbanded as the piercing shriek from within shook the window panes to near-shatter.

**}{**

This was worse than grounding. This was absolute humiliation. It had been half an hour and Bra had still not completely recovered from news of her damnation. She merely dawdled after her mother, in a half-comatose state, repeating her parents' choice of castigation.

_Trunks' secretary …. His secretary …_ Her mind echoed lamely, her expression completely crestfallen as Bulma led her up to a nice mahogany desk just opposite from her own private hall. She watched her mother's finely manicured hand rest upon the surface, and Bra finally lifted her eyes to meet her mother's strangely sympathetic gaze.

It didn't comfort her, however; it sparked her fury anew. Bra immediately glanced away.

"This is your desk. Trunks will be able to page you from here," she saw out of her peripheral her mother indicating to an intercom on the desk. "And vice-versa. You don't have to do anything outrageous for him, Bra," Bulma's voice turned a little more reprimanding, now, and it drew Bra's gaze back upon her. "Just take the calls, a couple memos, some coffee—"

"Coffee?!" Bra spat in an affronted voice, her fists clenching at her sides. "Why do I have to be his errand girl—"

"Would you lower your voice!?" Bulma hissed, edging in closer to her daughter. "It's not that bad—"

"Then _you_ get him coffee."

"Bra." This was warning one, and Bra lowered her eyes to her mother's pointed toed heels. "This isn't JUST for Trunks. It's for you, too."

_Insane mom logic?_ Bra snorted without looking up.

She felt Bulma sigh, and then her mother's hand touched the curve of her elbow. "It's to help you get comfortable with the company," Bulma continued to explain, her voice soft again. "Answering the phones, knowing what to say, taking memos. Yes," she raised her voice over Bra's opened mouth, "you will be entering the company at a higher position than a secretary, but it doesn't hurt to garner a little experience first." Bulma pat her daughter on the arm and tugged her nearer to plant a kiss on her forehead. "Just ask Trunks."

Bra could feel there was a lesson to be learned here, especially after her mother walked away with that hopeful little smile on her face. However, she was feeling a little ornery – lessons be damned, she was fucking_ pissed_. "Like hell I'm doing any of this shit," Bra growled, throwing herself down into the leather chair behind the desk. For emphasis, in case 'anybody' might have been watching, she knocked over the stack of notebooks and folders atop her desk, and she smiled triumphantly as the miniscule pile toppled across the face of the desk.

A click to her left sounded, followed by Bulma's irritated voice: "Pick those up and stop acting like a little brat, or you'll be looking at longer than a week, do you got that?"

Frozen behind her blue locks, Bra's heart leapt into her ears. She was being watched, too?

Grudgingly, she bent down to snatch up papers that had scattered around her feet.

**}{**

_Click._ "Trunks, your new secretary is here," Bulma's voice transmitted through the com and into Trunks' office. "She's on duty now, so if you need anything, just let her know, okay?"

_Click._ "Kay. Thanks, mom. What's her name?"

Bulma hesitated, her finger hovering over the black button.

_Click._ "…Please, just be nice to this one."

**}{**

This job wasn't so hard. Bra hadn't answered more than two phone calls since her mother had deposited her behind the desk half an hour ago. She could do this in her sleep.

"In fact," Bra yawned to herself, "I just may do that."

She lowered her head into the crook of her elbow, her arms folded atop the neaten stack of notebooks in a makeshift pillow. Nuzzling her nose into the fabric of her sleeve, Bra shut her eyes against the fluorescent lights above her head, envisioning darker and sleeker things. Her mind wandered over hills and valleys, trying to find the right place to bury itself for sleeping. She settled distantly on his face, his dusky eyes, that benign smile …

_Click._ "Uh … hello?"

Bra's eyes snapped open, and her cheeks instantly rushed with red. She jerked her head up from her arms, her hand reaching out to press forcefully on the button. "Hello?" She echoed carefully.

_Click. _"Oh, good! Could you come in here, miss?"

_Miss?_ _What the hell was that?_ She clucked her tongue and made a face, her finger hitting the button again, "Sure?"

Silent on his end. Bra sighed and took a calming breath in, slowly exhaling it as she rose up from her chair. _Moment of truth_, she supposed, and she started for Trunks' office door. Upon arriving, she felt a chill rip through her heart. Her fist waited above the wood veneer, waited for her pride to let her move.

Full of embarrassment and regret, she rapped politely at the door. It wasn't until after the third knock she registered the sound of laughter from inside his office. The mirth silenced, as Trunks called, "Come in!" Again, Bra waited for the wall of conceit to deteriorate before she twisted the knob and stepped forward with all the energy of one marching into the gallows.

Such scenery seemed foreign when involving her brother. There he sat behind a desk just larger than her own outside, Trunks decked in a suit and tie that seemed much crisper than it would when he'd come home from work. He was leaned back, facing something to the right, the laughter fading from his face as he turned to greet the entrant. Upon noticing his sister, however, amusement instantly fell from his face, replaced by confusion and a twinge of discontent. He was not pleased to see her.

Bra could certainly empathize.

"Bra?"

She peered around the doorway and gaped, finding Trunks' guest to be Goten. Her heart swam with a wealth of confliction, her cheeks turning rosy as the heat rose in her brain. He was looking at her with that baffled, naïve sort of appearance – perpetually childlike.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Came Trunks' harsh tones, and Bra was thankful for his distraction.

"You paged," she replied flatly, her eyes remaining riveted on her sibling.

Realization was slow to dawn on both men, and it tore at her layers of self-confidence and pride. Trunks was the first to catch on, and the spread of this understanding shown across his features had Bra fighting against the urge to bow her head in submission to this humiliation. Laughter was already building under his words as he queried, "Wait, you're—_you're_ my secretary? Like, you're—" His sentence was destroyed by his chuckles and following guffaws. "Oh, god, this is GREAT!"

Bra felt icy all over. This was a tragedy happening to her. "At least someone thinks so," she mumbled, lowering her gaze to the legs of his desk.

"Seriously?" Goten's incredulity had Bra glancing at him from the corner of her eye. "You're really—?"

Trunks was doubled up over his desk by now, his fist pounding at the surface. "You—did mom set this up?" He choked out, tears leaking down his cheeks. Bra thought fondly of her sucker punch as she glared fiercely down at her brother. "I mean, is this—she said she was gonna take care of—but dad…" Again, he dissolved into laughter, his forehead planting itself to the scattered papers.

To her dismay, she could feel the little chortles tugging their way out of Goten. The fury over the systematic destruction of her self-esteem was steadily becoming overwhelming, and Goten's presence – let alone his shared amusement in Bra's calamity – was doing nothing to help.

"So, you, you have to get Trunks … hehe … you have to get Trunks coffee and--" Goten tried to mask his chuckles as coughs in his closed fist, meeting Bra's burning baby blues.

"My laundry? Can you get my laundry?" Trunks crowed, almost jumping to sit upright in his seat.

Bra was having more than enough of this, and the laughter that arced between the boys merely served to fuel her rage. "Shut up, Trunks," she growled, absolutely seething now. "And no," she spoke over his reprimanding '_hey_,' "I'm not allowed to leave the company grounds. Daddy's orders," Bra finished as snottily as possible. If she was going to do this, she was going to manipulate every single word to get things going her way as much as she could.

While Trunks' amusement had whittled away, Goten was still doing his best to contain what left-over giggles he had left. Bra felt the knife dig a little deeper into her core. "Whatever, it'll still be fun," Trunks snickered, and he leaned back once more in his chair. He surveyed his sister coolly, finally shrugging as he ordered, "Two coffees. One black, one with two creams and three sugars."

And as though the whole scene hadn't occurred, Trunks looked back to his files atop his desk and started to rifle through them, entirely business-like. The change in his demeanor seemed purposeful in its suddenness, and Bra had to restrain herself from squealing in complete infuriation with her sibling.

From her right, Goten slipped out a snigger, and her rage melted instantly into disappointment. He was laughing at her ... and it hurt. She peeked at him from her peripheral, her features shifting involuntarily in reflection of her sadness. Goten met her gaze and his expression fell wounded at sight of her downtroddeness. Bra twirled suddenly on her heel, stomping for the door, and he watched her patent heels stride across the floor. She flung it open and all but threw herself into the hall.

The door slammed violently in her wake, and both boys watched after her – each obviously baring a different replay in their minds.

"Do you think we were mean?" Goten asked, a little too worriedly for his own good.

Trunks shot him a derisive look. "Are you kidding?" He shook his head, lowering his eyes back to his paper – though sparing a fleeting look back to the door. "She asked for it. A lesson will be good for her." It was quiet between them, until Trunks added as a bitter afterthought, "She's had it too easy, anyway."

Goten glanced at his friend, and back at the door, uncertain of where he stood.


	9. Chapter 9: These Daydreams!

**Author's Note: **Finals are over and the creative juices are going! I will not be held back by the establishment any longer! *shakes a fist* As always, I hope you enjoy and please, please read and review. Everyone loves a good reviewer. ;)

**These Daydreams, Okay!**

_Chapter 9: These Daydreams!_

He had to fix this. Something was wrong, and it unsettled him.

There was a puzzled "huh?" from behind as Goten sprung up suddenly and strode to the door, wrenching it open and letting gravity close it behind him.

Down toward the end of the hall from Trunks' office, he caught curls of blue bouncing around the corner, and Goten raced after their color. He felt like a fucking jerk – but why? It _was_ kind of funny, wasn't it? And Trunks was right, Bra was in need of a comeuppance every now and then. But the way she had looked at him … he didn't like the way it squeezed around his heart. Even now, it was almost suffocating.

Swallowing, Goten rounded the corner to find her stopped mid-stride, her entire body rigid. He paused and frowned, before he dared to take a couple paces closer. Immediately, Bra whipped around in a flurry of blue tendrils, angry eyes, and pink cheeks.

"Was there something you needed, _sir_?" She spat, looking absolutely disgusted with him.

Goten felt that pressure in his chest again and he didn't know what to do with it. So, what do boys do when on uncertain grounds? "I thought Trunks was your boss – not me," he joked. And instantly felt his foot enter his mouth.

Bra bowed up at his mockery and fought back a scream. He could see it vibrating in her tiny throat. She was all but shaking as she stepped closer to him, and Goten could make out her fists tightening by her sides. The bad part of his brain - the one that thrived on adrenaline and thrills - was deeply intrigued by her instinctive reaction for physicality.

Thankfully, the smarter part of said brain won out today. "Bra, c'mon…" Goten began slowly, his palms facing upward in supplication to her fury. "We were only—"

As quickly as her fire had been lit, it died out, and Bra wilted in front of him. "You were being _mean_," she finished for him, her voice quaking slightly on the word. "That's what you were."

Staring down at her, Goten found himself struck by her melancholy. He knew that look – it was her most menacing power. Her greatest weapon against invested men. Goten had seen it bring the most cold-hearted bastards (_read as: Vegeta_) to their knees, and turn men much less than that into apologetic gelatin. Perfected in her youth, Goten had been proud to build up immunity after all these years.

Yet here he stood, his legs threatening to give out as he was hypnotized by her gaze. Blue irises glazed over with the promise of tears, her lashes already dewy. It made her look fragile and it made him feel sick.

"Bra," he croaked, hating himself for a multitude of reasons. "I'm so, _so_ sorry." Goten was grasping at the last threads of his dignity as the words appeared on his lips. However, it seemed there was no appeasing her. Bra was not to be mollified so easily.

A groan almost tore itself from his chest as she turned away with the subtlest crinkle of her eyebrows. Goten had to stop her; amid all the confusion in his pounding head, he knew that for certain. Blindly, his hand reached out and captured her wrist. Bra jerked around with a gasp and, without thinking, Goten tugged her closer and brought his lips down over hers.

As he caught the rush of air from her sigh, Goten realized he could not have anticipated the wetness of her open mouth. She was so sweet inside; behind closed eyes, his mind danced over the idea of her pliant body being just as delectable. Goten dragged his free hand down her back, resting his palm at the small to hold her against him. Already in motion, Bra worked her arm around his shoulders, her fingers pressing into the nape of his neck to bring him deeper. Sinuously, their mouths and tongues worked to better acquaint themselves with one another, and neither could conceal their exigency.

Lost to the movement, Goten slid his hand to her hip and ushered Bra in a side-step, urging her against the wall and releasing her wrist so that his hand could brace himself over her. Parting briefly, Bra sucked in the heat of his breath before diving in again, her liberated hand grasping at the front of his shirt. She shivered as she felt the muscles hidden beneath, her body unconsciously arching toward him.

It was like the best kind of drowning. Fleetingly, she thought of her quick poolside smooch. Had she any foresight, Bra might've enticed him into higher stakes if it had meant she'd get to enjoy his experience that much sooner. He was warm all over, and it was difficult for Bra to get a proper grip over the situation. Her hand tightly fisted in his shirt before she pushed her palm flat against his chest to separate him from her. Goten moaned his protest softly as Bra maneuvered her face away, and he ached at her panting between them.

"Bad… very bad…" she huffed against his cheek, ignoring his inspection of her mouth. "We have, humm…" Bra closed her eyes as her brain was inundated with sensory overload. _Goten's cologne. Goten's breath. His muscles, his hair, his jaw_ – she felt her blood bubbling under her skin, but she managed to valiantly nudge him apart from her. "We have to … not do this," Bra sighed as Goten leaned back from her, and she let her skull collapse against the wall behind her. "…Here," she added as a breathy afterthought, and Bra thought she could hear him chuckle.

Goten took a couple moments to get his bearings straight, but her intimate position and the way his lips throbbed made it difficult. He swallowed, finally stepping away to allow Bra the necessary space to readjust herself. Still bewitched, Goten unthinkingly tried to spy every pale piece of flesh where her clothes had ridden up. Bra, unaware of his hunt, straightened down her blouse and skirt and turned to face him with a timid grin. She was still flushed, her white neck blotchy with red and pink patches.

"That's some apology," Bra puffed, her breath steadily coming back to her as she raked a hand over her ponytail.

Goten blushed and glanced away, the tug of war between rationale and instinct slowly giving out. "Yeah, it's – uh … not what I had planned," he laughed nervously, his hand coming to the back of his neck.

The mass of their actions slowly settled over them, weighing both down. Goten anxiously looked down the hall from whence he came, and back down the other end. Paranoia was climbing into the back of his head. Turning his gaze back upon her, he found her watching him while fiddling with her ponytail. "Look, Bra…" Goten began with renewed fervency. "I _really_ am sorry." The apology carried a different turn to it, and Bra ducked her head to hide her blush. "That was just—"

"Interstellar?" Bra taunted with a lift of her eyebrows. Her smile faded as she planted her hands on the curve of her waist. Perplexed, she canted her head at him, the curls of aqua dangling to the side as she inspected him. With true curiosity glinting in her eyes, Bra wondered of him quietly, "Why did you do that?"

"I … I don't…" Goten seemed to struggle with his mind, his hand coming up to rub at his brow. "I mean, it seemed like a—"

"No," Bra cut in, taking a tentative step closer to him. When she met his eyes, she faltered a bit. "I meant, uhm," she cleared her throat and bowed her head, her shoulders rising and falling. "…why did you come after me?"

_That is what he did, wasn't it?_ Bra couldn't mask the girlish hope that shone on her face as she looked back up at him. And frankly, Goten wouldn't have chosen to erase it. He quirked his mouth in a half-smile and lifted his hand to touch a tendril of blue that had fallen out of place. "You were upset," he told her, his eyebrows furrowing together. "And I didn't want you to be sad." His admittance was allowed with a certain level of consternation – Goten wasn't at all sure when her emotional welfare had become a necessity, beyond what was reasonable, to him.

Bra studied the man's expression, taking in the genuineness with which he spoke. Where did this butterfly feeling come from? It was Goten – he was hot, sure, but aside from a childhood crush, Bra had felt little toward him in their infinite years of knowing one another. Maybe a modicum of kinship, due to their family's closeness. But you don't have random hallway make-outs and with pseudo-family members. …Typically.

She exhaled shakily and took a step back, very much deciding to put the brakes on. "Goten, we … there is something to be said about Talks," she straightened up, her arms folding almost protectively over her chest.

Nonplussed, Goten merely blinked down at her.

With a sigh, Bra pushed the loose strand of hair behind her ear and tilted her head in toward him with a pointed look. "As in, we need to have one?"

That, he understood. And it didn't quell the anxiety clenching at his gut now. Goten swallowed deeply. Her words were not wrong, but Goten oh-so-hated those "Talk" things with girls. They never ended well – especially for him. He gave her a once-over and a tremble of fear broke over him. This was Bra; what was he doing? God, what was he doing?

"Y-Yeah," he choked, merely nodding his head. "Yeah, we—that's a good idea."

Both stood silent then, shuffling in their places; both feeling substantially small, somehow. Bra broke the quiet as she tried her best for a smile. "I should get … to the desk," she gestured down the path she had been taking. "Maybe actually get Trunks his coffee." The words had trace amounts of bitterness, but they were overlooked as far as Goten was concerned.

He nodded again, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Yeah, I'm just gonna—" His thumb flew over his shoulder, back towards Trunks' office. "If you need anything, just page." The words were out of his mouth before he had time to make sense of them, and he grimaced at Bra's light laugh.

A lingering look was offered between them, before each turned down the opposite ends of the hall.

**}{**

_Click._ "Bra, are you busy?"

Her mother's voice startled her. Finger to the button, Bra spoke into the com, "No, did you need something, mama?"

Truth be told, the only things occupying Bra at the moment was the furious tapping of her pen to blank paper and her mind's wild rampage through the encounter with Goten.

_Click._ "Hai. Could you come here?"

Bra didn't bother pressing for a response. Of course she would. Dropping her blue ink pen atop her desk, she started down the adjacent hall to her mother's wing. Appearing in front of Bulma's office door, Bra lifted her fist to knock – but Bulma was waiting behind the door, having swung it open when Bra's hand was inches from contact. Stepping aside, Bulma allowed her daughter to pass by before tenderly shutting the door behind her.

"You wanted to see me, mama?" Bra wondered of her mother, making a B-line for the chair across from Bulma's desk. She flopped down into it – the only lady-like aspect of her recline being her crossed legs.

Bulma remained mute as she wandered around to her side of the desk, and she slowly lowered herself into the leather chair. Drawing herself closer to the table, Bulma folded her hands almost prudishly atop one another and offered her daughter what could only be considered a clinical smile.

"You…" Her mother tried to begin but seemed unable to finish that route of thought. Instead, she forced a chortle and tilted her head at her child. "Are you having a good day, sweetie? Trunks told me he and Goten might've … wounded your pride a bit," she finished carefully, intently analyzing her daughter's facial expressions.

Bra shrugged a bit and laced her fingers together, her hands rounding about her knee. "I wouldn't say _good_," she grumped, a pout coming up to play. "And yeah, they were kind of harsh." Another single-shoulder shrug. "But I'll be okay," she sighed and offered a playful smirk. "I'm a big girl."

Unable to fight it, Bulma blushed and propped her chin up with a hand. "Sooo … did they apologize?" Her voice was beginning to tremor now, and Bra paused a moment to take in the oddness her mother's behavior.

"Mama, daijoubu?" Bra's voice wavered on vacillating as she eyed the woman across from her. "You're being—"

"I saw!" Bulma blurted instantly, her fingers curling in horror around her mouth.

The young girl felt mortification spread like disease through her veins as she shrunk down into the chair. If possible, her pallid flesh whitened even further. Without delay, she knew exactly to what her mother was referring. _But it couldn't be—there's not—_

"How?" Bra hissed, irises nothing more than blue specks in her wide, saucer-like eyes. "What were you even—"

"I go over the security in the halls, I wanted to check up on you!" Bulma explained in shrill tones, her hands wringing at a stray paper she had picked up. "Trunks had told me you were upset, and I was just … and then I saw you!"

Bra moaned in agony and twisted in her chair, trying to escape this embarrassing, horrifying moment. "Ohhh, GOD!" She shouted, the color finally spreading up her neck and into her face. Aghast, Bra clutched at her cheeks and stared blankly into space. "You … you saw me making out, this is so—"

"I saw you making out with _Goten_," Bulma whispered sharply, bringing her daughter to even greater levels of personal despair. She watched with little sympathy as Bra wailed this travesty, shaking her head at her child. "Bra, what _are_ you doing?"

The girl was all but slipping out of the chair as she writhed in her misery. "Trying to fall into the Earth," came Bra's muffled reply, her face partially obscured by the armrest of the chair. "I can't believe this is happeniiiing…" Her keening whine was high-pitched and brought Bulma's hands to her ears.

"I meant with _Goten_," Bulma clarified with a wince, rising up to bend over her desk and peek down at her daughter. "Oh, Bra, just get up already," she chided the young girl, who begrudgingly rose back to her proper place in the chair. Sighing weightily, Bulma replanted herself and fixed her daughter with a grave stare.

"This is serious, Bra," Bulma rumbled, unable to contain herself from leaning forward.

Bra rolled her eyes, her arms crossing over her chest as she turned her face away from her mother. "Because I don't know that?"

Her mother snapped her fingers and Bra riveted her mother with an intent look, her attention satisfactorily nabbed. "Now is not the time for attitude," Bulma reprimanded her and pushed with her hands to rise from the desk. "You need to explain yourself."

Palms over her face, Bra lolled her head backward, silent curses mouthed between her fingers.

**}{**

Goten dug his phone blindly out from his jacket pocket as he sped home, mind rooted in other avenues as he hit the 'ok' without checking the caller ID.

"Moshi moshi?"

"Goten, it's Bra."

Her voice was like a bucket of ice water. "Uh, yeah! What's up?"

"D'you think your mom will have room for an extra place at dinner?"

The man froze, his vision losing focus momentarily. "I, uh … why?"

She sighed. He thought he could feel it. "I'll explain later," Bra grumbled in hushed tones. "Just … expect my shining, happy face."

Wordlessly, Goten nodded – until he realized she couldn't see. "Oh, yeah, sure, I'll – I'll give mom a heads up." He paused. "Is there a reason I can feed to my mom?"

"Oh, tell her something about Trunks and I," she puffed into the phone, and he could hear her becoming exasperated.

_With him? Or something else?_ She sounded distracted.

"Right. So—" Goten wasn't sure where this phone call was supposed to go. When did Bra ever call him?_ …And when did she get my number?_

"See you around 6?" He accepted, and she beamed a faux-chipper, "Ja ne!" into the receiver before the call ended.

**}{**

"_Is it serious?" Bulma wondered in softer tones than before, the conclusion nigh._

_Bra helplessly rolled her shoulders, her gaze downcast and watery. It had been the trial of her life – she felt out of energy. "I don't—we were gonna talk," she mumbled, the hint of a sniffle under her words._

_Bulma nodded and shifted on her desk, having since lifted herself atop it. "You're going to talk, alright," she almost growled, shooting her daughter a look that rang of sympathy and disappointment at the same time. "Tonight."_

_Fed up with the conversation, Bra jolted up from the chair and fixed her mother with a dirty look. "What are you—"_

"_Call Goten," Bulma ordered, her attention leveled on the wall opposite them. "You're going to the Sons' for dinner, and you're going to work this—"_

"_Mama, I can't—"_

"—_Out, even if it kills you," Bulma spoke over her daughter's protests, finally turning a stinging glare over her child. "I won't have you demolishing our ties with that family for naught, do you understand?" Her mother spoke with an even tone; Bra couldn't recall the last time Bulma had been so stern. "They're important to us." _

To her_, Bra considered the certain level of desperation in her mother's voice, and her expression softened. Moving toward her mother, Bra settled a kiss on Bulma's cheek. "I know, mama," she sighed. "I don't want to mess it up, either. It's … weird and creepy," she admitted with a shudder._

_Bulma merely nodded, trying not to visibly acknowledge that it was, indeed, "weird and creepy." However, she looked up as she felt Bra moving away and towards the door. "You're going to call him, then?"_

_The bounce of azure ringlets signaled her concession. Hand on the door knob, Bra barely turned her head over her shoulder. "Just don't tell daddy, okay?" She felt shameful, having to plead with her mother over such a matter as this. _

_Removing herself from the desk, Bulma rounded to her side and lowered herself into her chair once more. Leaning back, she surveyed her daughter from across the room, before offering heavily, "If you know you shouldn't tell your father, because you're asking me not to tell your father, then do you think should you have gotten into such a situation in the first place?"_

_Bra wasn't entirely sure how to answer. _

"_Isn't that a loaded question?"_

**}{**

Awkward couldn't even begin to describe the tension that had strung itself in the air as Goten swung the door open to reveal Bra outside his home. He reflected sadly on her missing business assemblage. She had since changed into something much more casual – t-shirt and black shorts with red flats.

"Hey…" he mumbled, hating the bashful quality in his demeanor.

Bra smirked and reached up to pinch at his cheek. He chuckled and batted her fingers away. "Don't look so happy to see me," she teased, breezing past him with a definite swing to her hips.

**}{**

They sat in his room for eternity while Chi Chi put the finishing touches on supper. Bra couldn't recall if she had ever been in his sanctuary, so she took the time to observe his collection of mannish knick-knacks and personal effects that were littered all over. Her gaze was limited as she lay sprawled on his bedroom floor, Goten having lain himself across the bed.

It struck him as wrong, how very PG this scenario was playing out. And then he quickly killed himself over such agonizing thoughts. Glancing down at her, he was torn between admiration of her womanly figure and appreciation of his familial closeness with the girl. Vividly, he recalled holding her after she was born – the first time he had ever seen a newborn infant. Shame ricocheted off his ribs and he swallowed the painful lump that was his heart.

"Bra…" he began unsteadily.

"Yep?" Her reply sounded distant, and when he looked up, he found her scouring the Miss November centerfold curiously.

With a strangled yelp, Goten ripped himself from the bed and yanked the smut mag from her hands, hurling it carelessly over his shoulder. "What the fuck are you doing?!" He bellowed, his humiliation etched into his features. "You can't just pick up stuff and, and—"

Bra's giggles were not placating him – and neither was her still recumbent position on the floor beneath him. Grumpily, he grabbed her by the forearm and dragged her into a proper sitting position.

"What?" She hiccupped on a laugh, smirking up at him. "Please, Goten," she began, shoving his hand from her limb. "That's not the first and it certainly won't be the last random dirty magazine I find laying around some pervert's room unaccounted for." She spoke these words so sagely that he wondered briefly just how many perverts' rooms she had ever been in.

Again, he weighed his thoughts on appropriateness. What was wrong and what was right. _All of it and none of it?_ _Or just the opposite?_ His brows creasing together, he lowered himself to her level, trying to catch her azure gaze dead-on. "Bra…"

Although he saw her mouth move, Goten heard the cry of another woman in the Son home. It made the shame filter into his bloodstream again, and he bolted into an upright stance and as far away from Bra as possible at his mother's voice.

"GOTEEEN! BRAAAA-CHAAAN! FOOD!"

Neither exchanged a single look as they made haste for the kitchen.

**}{**

"Woooow! So you went all the way to the top, huh?" Chi Chi marveled at Bra, diagonal from her across the table. "I hear that Statue's just so big, it's hard to see it from standin' on the ground and lookin' up!"

Bra's fascinating New York stories had been enough to prevent the conversation from delving into awkward topics or – worse yet – awkward silences.

The blue-tressed girl simply nodded, working a forkful of potato into her mouth. Chewing and swallowing, she continued, "Yeah, it's really big. And when you get to the top, you can see all over the harbor and the New York skyline, it's just … it's really pretty." Bra smiled fondly at Chi Chi's 'ooohs' and 'ahhs', casting a quick look down to Goten, who was fixing his mother with an affectionate look.

Chi Chi spooned some meaty soup into her bowl, missing the traded smiles from the two youths. "You know, Goten, I think your brother was talking to Videl about going to New York," she began conversationally, scooting the soup dish closer to her son. "We should see about taggin' along! Wouldn't that be fun?"

Goten's amicable character had diminished quickly under the mention of his brother. "Maybe," was the gruff response he offered around a mouthful of fish.

His mother clucked her tongue and shot him a disapproving look. "Aren't you two gonna make up yet?" She scolded, shaking her head. "You two are so close, and you're just gonna get all mad for—"

"Don't say nothing, okaasan," Goten pleaded of his mother, his forkless hand lifting his knuckles to his temple. "It's not nothing."

Bra was thoroughly at a loss between the family discrepancies unfolding before her. She sat quietly in her place, rotating her straw in her glass as she observed the bickering mother-son duo.

"Well, y'know, he's just lookin' out for you," Chi Chi sighed. "And now that you've got that job—"

"You got a job?" Bra perked up at once, and she turned to study Goten excitedly. "You didn't tell me you got a job! Which one?"

"Oh, you didn't tell her!? He's so excited," Chi Chi began to gush across the table to Bra. "He got a trainer position at one of the dojos in town—"

"That's such—that's perfect!" Bra gasped, leaning to mirror Chi Chi's animated behavior. "Of course he should do that!"

Goten bowed his head under the attention, his cheeks tinged with red as the women continued the flow of praise that, quite honestly, wasn't all that deserved. He wasn't sure why it bothered him so much – typically, he appreciated any nice ego rub, but Bra's elatedness was stirring something anxious inside him.

When a knock came at the door, all three exchanged curious looks. Goten began to rise, but Chi Chi waved him off. "No, no! You stay here and fill Bra-chan in on your new job!" She patted him on the shoulder as she passed by, and Goten brought up a small grin for his mother. He threw a reserved glance down to Bra, who met his look with a coy smile.

"Aww, mommy's proud," she whispered playfully, wrinkling her nose cutely up at his slowly forming frown.

"Ha, ha," he offered emotionlessly, his attention reverting to his plate once more. "That's nice. Real nice."

Bra giggled into her glass, taking a swig of the juice before she flashed him a more sincere smile. "If it helps, I am, too."

Goten hesitated over his food, uncertain whether he should look up at her or not. Following temptation, he glanced up to find Bra's gaze fixated across the room. He traced her lingering stare toward the front door, where he was astounded to find his mother tangled up in a tight embrace with his niece.


	10. Chapter 10: The Wind is in!

**Author's Note: **I didn't wanna make one big Bra/Pan chapter, since the story IS about Bra/Goten, so I broke their face-to-face up in between parts of this chapter. Goten and Bra get kinda seksii again, yay. ;) Still debating how to wind up the story, but I think I feel it comin' on. Plus, I'm kind of running out of chapter titles! In retrospect, I should've picked a wordier song for inspiration. Anyway, we'll see!

In the mean time, keep reading and reviewing! I'm glad you're all enjoying (those of you who are!) and thanks so much for all the nice comments and words! I really do appreciate it.

**These Daydreams, Okay!**

_Chapter 10: The Wind is In--!_

Despite the rage pumping through her, Bra managed to creep upstairs to her room undetected by her family. The door closed with a gentle clicking behind her, and she pressed the weight of her entire being against the rust colored wood. Her whole body felt like weeping; every nerve ending was stretched taut inside her from emotional intensity. As she leaned back, Bra stared blankly into her ceiling, unwanted memories ripping at her brain and her heart

"_Maybe you should ask yourself who _really_ got forgotten," Pan spat, acid dripping from each word._

She twisted her head to the side, pressing her temple against the cold wood. Her pride was beginning to fold and her throat began to tighten.

"_You were supposed to be here!" She screamed in her friend's face. _

A choked noise leapt from Bra's throat as she shut her eyes tight, trying her hardest to silence the argument playing over and over in her head. She squirmed against the door and in her skin, hating everything about herself and her world as she felt it constricting around her.

**}{**

"_Bra, hey," Pan almost gasped, the guest within her grandmother's home entirely unexpected._

_The young girl of azure remained rooted in her chair, an astounded and disbelieving sort of look pulling her features slack. In her entire view of the night, Bra had not anticipated finding herself staring into the face of Son Pan. Her mind whirled a mile a minute around the concept of this woman reentering her world – Bra had never considered what she would do when confronted with one of the roots of her current state of discontent._

_Awkward silence echoed around them. To her left, Bra saw Goten shuffle out of his seat and march across the room to approach his niece. It inflamed her instantly to see him squeezing Pan so close, and Bra rose abruptly from her place at the family's table. _

"_You're back," she announced obviously, and while her expression was beginning to take form in something more upset, her voice still carried uncertainty. Suddenly, a painfully tight smile bridged across her mouth. "Well."_

_Pan stepped away from her relatives, her hands shucked into her pockets as she looked wholly unsure of what to do with herself. "Yeah, you're … I mean, you are, too." _

_Bra could read her like a book. She observed with supreme distaste the penchant this family had for wearing their hearts on their sleeves. Every action they make, they reveal their entire emotional landscape. Her eyes swept over to Goten, who was observing the Briefs daughter with concern and – it seemed to Bra, anyway – a definite sense of pleading in his eyes. Generally, his well-meaning eyes struck her as endearing; now, she wanted him to look away from her. _

_It was with a certain precision that Bra moved herself away from the table, closer into the family's half-circle – towards the front door. "Yep, a couple weeks," she continued coolly, a shrug of her shoulder as she started to move through the trio. "But, y'know, I'm sure you all have plenty of catching up to do, so I'm—"_

_A smaller hand than predicted encircled her elbow, and Bra fluidly withdrew herself from Pan's clutches with the faintest bat of a lash. "Don't touch me, please," she requested, sounding almost politely sinister._

_Pan's temper flared; Bra saw this as admittance to guilt. "What's your problem?"_

"_Girls…" Chi Chi began cautiously, a concerned glance thrown Goten's way. _

_At once, the man acted, stepping up to the space between the young women in an effort to divide their hateful stares. "Girls, c'mon. Let's just go eat. Pan-chan, you can catch us up—"_

"_No!" Bra's forceful voice breached into his peace-keeping, her tone affronted and offended. Rethinking the bratty scenario that was impending, Bra flickered a smile Chi Chi's way – sincerely apologetic and appreciative. "Arigato gozaimasu, Chi Chi-obaasan, for dinner. It was great." _

_Inwardly, she hoped she could make it to her car without a tear dropping or a Son coming after her. However, hopes were always meant to be easily dashed, and Pan's cry of her name had Bra wheeling around on her heel. _

"_Bra, would you just stop?" Her friend ground out, anger written out all over her. "You're being stupid—"_

_It was like a tsunami, crashing against her heart unyieldingly. The flood broke. "You were supposed to be here!" Bra shouted against the night, already feeling the prickling behind her blue eyes and the stinging glow rising to her cheeks._

**}{**

Their palms clapped overhead, the sound reverberating in the atrium of the Briefs compound. Trunks and Goten's fists joined in a manly shake, before withdrawing and connecting their knuckles to one another.

"Hey, man," Trunks greeted his friend warmly, stepping aside so Goten could entreat further into his home. "You ready for some one-on-one?"

Goten chuckled, nodding affirmative. "I hope you've managed to practice in between shifts at Cap Co, 'cause I'm the sensei now, dude." As if to emphasize this further, Goten threw up a ridiculous kung-fu action pose.

Resting his palm firmly on Goten's shoulder, the lavender hand man motioned for him to join him into the kitchen. "How's that working out, anyway? The dojo?"

"Pretty sweet," Goten mused with a pleased smile rising to his face. "It's nice, real easy, it's not like I'm teaching them anything super, y'know?"

Arriving into the immaculate kitchen, Goten startled to find the bolt of aquamarine stationed behind the island in the kitchen. Bra had her face turned down from sight and into her breakfast cereal, which appeared to be ultimately fascinating to the young woman. He was impressed to find what little of her features he could make out devoid of cosmetics; her hair swooped up into a high ponytail, baring her skin to the stray sunlight that illuminated the room.

Yet none of the golden glow touched the downcast girl. Goten noted with a pang in his heart how deeply depressed and faraway she looked – and when she turned her face up to see both boys, he only felt his chest tug harder for her. She looked completely miserable; those expressive eyes were wells of sadness, and he swam in them.

"Hey," he greeted as 'normal' as possible, the barest wave given.

Bra blinked sullenly at him, before she scooped up her bowl and vacated the counter. She turned for the sink, wherein she dumped the contents of her breakfast.

"She's been in a mood," Trunks mumbled out of the corner of his mouth to Goten, flashing a disheartened second look his sister's way. "Ever since Pan came back."

His following sentence had Bra spinning from the room quickly, her face twisted up with emotion as she evacuated the room. Goten and Trunks turned after to watch her retreat into the main room and up the stairs to her and her brother's wing of the compound, and when she had vanished, Trunks let out a long whistle.

"I feel bad for her," Trunks admitted as he let his gaze linger on the stairwell. "If she wasn't still pissed at me, I'd try to say something." His voice, to Goten's surprised, carried a notable amount of sympathy and worry on behalf of his little sister. Despite their bickering and fall outs, Goten knew that the Briefs siblings shared a closeness that little could infringe upon.

Gloomily, Goten thought of his own older brother and their similar bond. Their own feud had waged on for quite some time – it was almost alarming to think how long they had gone without speaking much of a word to one another, without hostilities or interventions being made. He shook his head, ridding himself quickly of such desolate trains of thought.

"She'll be fine. They'll work it out eventually," Goten breezed and he started for the back doors with a smirk. "Now, you ready to get your ass kicked, broseph?"

Trunks chuckled low and returned the dark look to his friend as he started after him, shoving Goten the rest of the way out into the backyard. "Sure. C'mon, let's see how much farther you can get your foot in your mouth."

**}{**

_Angry rock music? Check. Open window to let in a forlorn breeze? Check. _

Bra was draped across her bed, her bedroom engulfed with the loud, angsty noise from her sound system. It was inside herself that she bemoaned her life's crisis, unable and unwilling to verbalize her woe.

A barely audible knock came from her door, and she didn't bother to lift her head. "Come in," she said over the rising chorus.

Her eyebrows knit together and, as the door opened, Bra lifted herself upright with a look of sheer surprise on her face as the entrant made himself known. The door closed behind him.

"What-- what are you doing in here?" Bra gasped, alarmed as Goten drew nearer to her – into her room – to her bed.

Wordlessly, he knelt at the edge of the bed and reached out to her, and Bra leaned forward to meet him halfway. Sliding his hands over her arms, he pushed, compelling her body to rest again. Bra sighed quietly as Goten positioned himself atop her, his mouth descending upon her tiny pink lips. She acquiesced, opening her mouth to him with a small moan and the flutter of lashes.

Dimly, Bra wondered if she was dreaming. But he felt so real above her, she mused, her arms caressing the plain of his back as he invaded her mouth. His skin was damp and hot – oh, so hot. Breaking apart, Goten let slip a groan into the arch of her neck as he bent to lavish the flushing skin there with kisses, his hand seeking refuge underneath her tank top. His rough fingers traced along her slim waist, across her firm stomach, and up. Bra barely suppressed her moan as she lifted herself into his touch, her nails scratching through his shirt as he inched ever higher. "Goten, what're you…?" Her breath trailed off into his black mane as his hand skipped up her ribs.

A knee parted her legs, and Bra's stomach tossed at his boldness. It brought her to surge against him and this time Goten was to moan the approval into her collar. He sucked and nipped at the tender, erogenous skin at the base of her neck, feeling the blood pulse and her heart throb underneath. It spurred his worship of her onward, and he dared himself to leave a wet trail to the swell of her breasts.

Moments seemed to stretch out forever as they arched and groped and groaned with one another there on her covers, the powerful music providing a soundtrack to their spontaneous intimacy.

Finally, with what inner strength he could muster, Goten pushed himself up on both arms over her. He observed her like that, drinking her in. Bra was pink and rosy, flushed all over from his ministrations, and her chest heaved with each jagged intake of breath. Goten was mesmerized by everything about her. Most of all, it was her wondering stare; the passionate twinkle sent tidal waves of craving crashing through him.

With a kind smile, Goten moved his face forward and pecked her forehead. "You were upset," he notified her on a heavy exhale. He felt her wiggle underneath him with the déjà vu, and Goten kissed the space under her ear before he lifted himself into a sitting position. Bra followed suit, her hands fastening around his lower biceps as she stared into his onyx eyes. They were a wealth of earnest goodness. She felt a rush of warmth run over her, and Bra threw her arms around his neck in an impulsive hug. Goten, not missing a beat, reciprocated and embraced her, his arms coming around her waist. She separated eventually and sat back from him, her hands gingerly laid atop his knees.

"You could get in trouble," she warned after a moment, though she couldn't hide the teasing cadence under her words.

Goten chuckled and reached over to flick loose blue hairs from her line of vision. "Trunks is in the shower, your dad's training, Bulma's at the corporation," he ticked off with such a leisurely tone, Bra wondered if he had been planning such a brave stunt as this. "So, unless you say something…"

Bra snickered and came forward again, well into his personal space. He sucked in a breath as her scent slithered up to him and around him. Distinctly nectarine in its base, as well as something he couldn't place.

"Now, why would I do a thing like that?" She wondered in a tone that could've – would've – been of the utmost innocence, had she not followed it up with such a nefarious smirk.

Goten hesitated, hearing distantly the shower quit running down the hall. Her parted lips were scant inches from his, and he was sorely tempted to steal another round with the sea foam beauty before him. "I need to go," he breathed, trace amounts of regret ebbing into his voice.

Bra nodded, ponytail bouncing behind her, albeit she did not withdraw from him. "You have something to say," she observed softly, her teal eyes searching his face.

Her intrusive gaze made him fidget with anxiety and wanting. "There's a lot to be said," he puffed, feeling short-winded by her proximity. Bra was a hair's breadth away from him, he could feel her palms clench over his knees, and he twitched unconsciously.

"Yeah," Bra agreed breathily, noting the sudden flash of trepidation in his eyes. Given his melting expression, she figured she could've taken what she wanted from his mouth – her family and his own thrown under the bus for the sake of satiating lust. However, her heart was not into the sultry and provocative today, and she opted to affectionately kiss his jaw instead. She felt him relax under the tender gesture, and his lips tugged into a little grin.

Bra drew her legs up, criss-cross beneath her, and tilted her head up at him as he got up from her bedding and stood at the foot of her bed. "What is it, then?"

Loathe as he did to ruin the pleasant mood, Goten had ulterior motives for the stolen make-out session with the Capsule heiress. Granted, all of it was for her ultimate benefit – as well as his. "Pan," he uttered the name firmly, unyielding to her narrowed gaze. "I want you guys to fix it."

"Oh, ho," Bra laughed, sans amusement, and collapsed against her pillows. "I see what you did there."

Goten sighed, throwing a careful look over his shoulder to her door, then turned his attention upon the reclining girl again. "It's important. And you know it." He tried not to sound scolding, feeling awkward as an adult superior to the vixen laid before him, especially given what had just occurred. "I just want you and she to be happy," Goten finished, hoping his efforts sounded imploring.

He watched as she plucked at her red comforter, her features knotted up in consideration of his plea. Bra struggled with the idea of burying the hatchet or giving in to her grudge – her genes didn't like the idea of the former, though her rational brain recommended it. She lifted her azure eyes to Goten, finding his face hopeful, and she felt herself caving.

"Alright," she grumbled, diverting her eyes once more. "I'll call her."

Had he not been sure he just heard Trunks call his name, Goten would've rewarded her compliance. However, both he and she twisted their heads up simultaneously, looks of similar fear exchanged. Goten quickly inclined his head to her before pivoting for the door, his escape from her chamber silent and swift.

**}{**

Padding downstairs, Bra arrived in time to catch Goten's farewell with Trunks.

"She emerges!" The dark haired man made a show of announcing her arrival, and Bra could not erase the blush that spread into her cheeks. "All that brooding really refreshes a girl," he continued jokingly, a knowing smirk taking over his face.

"Shut up, Goten," she ordered him haughtily, her hands rooting themselves at her hips. "Aren't you gone yet?"

As Goten let out a surprised noise at her fierceness, Trunks chuckled between them, a hand coming to rest over his sister's shoulder. "Later, dude," he covered over his sister's attitude, his free hand sticking out to accept the other male's. "Same time next week?"

Finger guns and a wink were granted (and the tiniest of finger-wiggle-waves for Bra) before Goten was departing the Briefs household. Bra really wished she could've followed him out, feeling the urge to do so tingle in her toes, but Trunks' hand over her shoulder reminded her that such an idea was not within the realm of good.

**}{**

_Pan 'tsked' in disagreement, rounding on Bra and closing the distance between them. "Oh yeah? And where were you supposed to be when, I don't know, I was kind of getting the shitty end of the stick?" She wondered harshly, daggers narrowed upon the aqua girl now._

"_God, if this is about Tr—" Bra began, exasperation rife in her voice._

_However, Pan – who was furiously red – interjected violently, "That's not it! You know, you have really turned into a whiny bitch, you know that?"_

_Bra shook her head, her arms crossing as she looked disgustedly over the girl. "Do you know how it feels to come home, and my best friend has apparently forgotten about me? Kind of apt to render you bitchy."_

_Nighttime creatures seemed to have taken silence for their row. Both girls stood meters from Bra's car, outside the Son home, as Goten and Chi Chi observed them carefully from the doorway. _

"_You are so selfish!" Pan all but shouted, her fists tightening by her sides. "Even when I called you in America, you were still about you! It's like you didn't even care—"_

"_How could you say that?" Bra cried, a wave of nausea coming over her. Slightly somber, she added, "Of course I cared." Her hand jumped to her chest emphatically. "But I couldn't be there all the time! I tried! It would get busy and—"_

"_Yeah, _real_ busy," the ebony haired girl snorted derisively. "So_ I_ get busy and you jump down my throat?"_

"_Hmm, school," Bra lifted her left hand, a look of faux-consideration on her face, "and gallivanting off on some ridiculous quest." The other hand rose, effectively making Bra seem like a pair of scales. Tipped in her favor was the hand considered 'School.' "Hmm, one of these things is not like the other." _

"_It wasn't ridiculous," Pan growled, another step nearer drawn. "It was important to me. You would know that if you listened." She hesitated, the anger radiating from her squelching now and then with disappointment. "Maybe you should ask yourself who _really_ got forgotten."_

**}{**

Thankful for the absence of her family member, Bra hovered at the end of the large couch in the sitting room. In her hand was the portable house phone, which she was examining with supreme intent. With a deep inhale, her fingers raced over familiar digits, pressing in the phone number.

Receiver to her ear, she counted out the rings. It was on the third when Pan's gruff voice answered. "Moshi moshi?"

"Pan-chan?"

The other girl was silent, thus Bra continued. "Can … can we talk?"


	11. Chapter 11: My Heart!

**Author's Note: **Sorry it took so long to get this chapter out! I went on holiday for a week for my BFF's birthday, and I met JENNIFER LOVE HEWITT. She was manning the merchandise booth at Jamie Kennedy's comedy show. It was so boss. But y'all don't want to hear about that, you want the sweet, sweet Goten/Bra love.

Sadly, you won't get it in this chapter. Bra and Goten gots some stuff to work out in this chapter, but all will be made right in the next chapter, I promise. I hope you guys are enjoying! Please, keep reading and reviewing. I love seeing what you guys have to say. :)

**These Daydreams, Okay!**

_Chapter 11: --My Heart!_

All he could think about was her. She was everywhere in his day, now. First thing he thought of when he woke up was aqua.

At work? Sapphire.

At lunch? Cerulean.

All day, every day, it was blue, blue, blue. Every shade, every hue.

Goten sighed wearily and stared deeply into his reflection. He hadn't seen her for a handful of days now, and it was making his bones ache. It was driving him crazy, this idiotic schoolboy desire for her. She was half his age and his best friend's sister. Given all rationality and morality, he should shun everything sexual and romantic concerning her.

And yet.

The last he had seen of her was at Trunks' house. He supposed his 'pep talk' had done the trick: Bra and Pan were giddily reunited, or so he had heard from Trunks and Gohan. Pan's frequent absence from her family's home was only further evidence to this.

With a frown, he opened the medicine cabinet behind the mirror and retrieved his toothpaste and toothbrush, determined to try and strip the taste of her from his mouth.

**}{**

The heat wave was passing nicely. Bra still didn't have the urge – or, really, the permission – to venture out into the city, thus she spent today curled up on the couch, cloud-gazing. While denied escape from the compound on this occasion, Bra had to be grateful. Bulma and Vegeta were beginning to wane on their punishment, and she had been allowed a trip or two out with her cohort, Pan. Though, she still had to frequent the offices of Capsule Corp. at least once a week, but it didn't matter really. She could feel their resolve bending slowly, and she smiled fully at the notion of soon being free of their sentence.

A shadow loomed then behind her, the edges of the figure thicker and taller – a man. Bra turned away from the wide, open window to find Trunks standing behind her.

"Hey," he offered uncertainly, his eyes tripping over his sister's unreadable expression.

Nodding in mute reciprocation of his greeting, Bra merely tilted her head to rest it against her folded limbs.

His feet shuffled awkwardly, and it occurred to Bra that he was here to ask her a favor. _God, could my days get any better lately?_ She wondered to herself, fighting back the urge to smirk.

"Look, I know we've been … on the outs," he grunted, not really meeting her gaze. "But I need help." He hesitated, finally lifting his blue eyes to his sister's teal. "With … Marron."

Bra hid her snicker as best she could, righting herself against the leather cushions so she could better observe her sibling. He was blushing – no great feat, Trunks was always so easily flustered – and anxious. Her quietness unnerved him, and she could tell he was seconds away from bolting once she had settled her denial upon him.

"What about Marron?" Bra relented a heavy minute later, and Trunks nearly collapsed in relief on to the adjacent couch.

"I need you to talk to her for me," Trunks began fervently, leant forward over his knees. "She likes you, she'll—"

"She likes you, too, y'know," Bra replied casually, a single eyebrow arching.

Trunks looked torn between embarrassment and surprise. "She … she does?" He paused, a sideways glance toward the main hall of the home. Dropping his voice, he added, "Like that?"

Snorting, Bra grabbed one of the throw pillows and tossed it at his face. "Don't be such a girl. Yeah, like _that_," she mock-whispered, rolling her eyes at his affectation. She had gotten the back story from Pan during their last visit, and she regretted instantly only ever accepting the bare minimum.

It was a classic affair: Marron liked Trunks. Trunks liked Marron. After much urging from his peers – that is, Goten and Gohan – Trunks went to ask Marron out. All seemed dandy … until a recent booty call of her brother's had snuck up on the duo on their first date.

"_Needless to say," Pan rolled her shoulders, so obviously trying to fight a grin from her face, "awkwardness and heartbreak abounding."_

Little sympathy was rewarded to her sibling's trouble. "If you really want her? Talk to her yourself," Bra advised him knowledgably, if not haughtily, as she turned her head back toward the window. A cloud rolled by, and inexplicably, she thought of **him** then. Her own advice rang solidly in her ears, and Bra had to shut her eyes against the echo.

"What would I say?" Trunks' voice sounded to her left, and Bra looked across to him. He looked dejected and hopeless. _Sad._

She should've felt pity, but instead she felt a flare of annoyance. Clearing her throat, she turned her face away again, up to the lace curtains wafting above her head. "What you feel," she told him sternly. "And that you're sorry. Don't make up bullshit, Trunks, just … what's real."

**}{**

As paradisiacal as her day had seemed thus far, her dialogue with Trunks left Bra a little discontented. As soon as he had departed to Marron's, the Capsule compound seemed to cram down upon her. It was a stifling box suddenly, not at all the serene abode it had been moments prior. Strangely enough, she decided to seek absolution in the Capsule Corporation towers. She was greatly relieved to find her mother had taken the day off, leaving her alone in the upper offices – spare the few other secretaries who Bra figured lived behind their desks.

Dumping her purse on to her desk, she dropped herself into the chair, and she drew herself up to the table. She was conflicted; to try and find peace in misery after finding misery in peace?

Bra flicked her pen across the table, a sorrowful look drawing up to her face. "You are_ so_ bizarre," she considered herself with dismay, unsure of what was plaguing her. She wasn't sure what was eating her, making her insides wriggle anxiously. Bra had enjoyed proper reconciliation with her best friend, and she assumed that her discussion with her brother was at least the beginnings of mending their bond.

_Stop pretending_, she thought to herself then grimly, as a flash of onyx ripped through her mind. _You know what's eating Gilbert Grape._

She hadn't seen Goten for nearly a week, now that she could really think upon it. Bra missed him, despite their lack of anything real or solid. This thought made her heart sink a little deeper. Beyond a couple of steamy make-out sessions and tip-toeing around intimate conversation, what had they really provided each other in the realm of a "relationship?"

With a grunt, Bra snatched up her notebooks, purse, and pen and twisted away from the desk, headed down the hall to Trunks' office.

**}{**

His office was so much more spacious without people in it, she marveled as she dropped her collection of items upon his desk. She had to alleviate the burden in her chest somehow, and solitude within her brother's personal office seemed to do the trick.

Bra started for his bookshelf, her fingertip coming to rest upon the spine of each tomb. She couldn't deny it; her brother could be a bit of a brainiac, following in the footsteps of their mother. While they were certainly not geniuses, both of the Briefs siblings had commandeered at least some of Bulma's brainpower. Bra walked slowly along, dragging her finger over each and every book. Everything from foreign languages to Communications to Shakespeare. She wondered vaguely if he had really read all of these.

With a sniff, Bra turned from the shelves and meandered over to the side table. There was a liquor cabinet attached, the shiny classes and a bottle of Jack set upon the shelves. She smirked and thought seriously of taking a swig – but really, it wasn't what she fancied. Across the tabletop, there were photographs of family and friends; Bra recognized with a smile that she was featured in nearly all of them. Goten had to be the second most popular face, with Trunks himself in third.

Her fingers wrapped around a photo of the two boys, and she drew the frame up closer to inspect its contents. A frown slowly creased over her lips as Bra admired the two in their youth. It had to be taken before she was even born, or at least when she was still an infant, and both her brother and Goten were enjoying the precipice of teenagehood. She scowled and set the picture aside, momentarily offended by reality.

Marching back over to the desk, she fell into the leather chair with a sigh. Bra canted her head to the side to gaze out the gigantic window that the wall to the left of the room housed. It was a spectacular view – the entirety of the city laid out before the gazer's eyes.

A small grin spread over her face as an idea occurred to her. Bra pulled herself closer to the desk, laying her palms flat, before she pushed off with a twist. The chair was sent spinning in place, Bra whipping around and around, unaware of the door opening until the figure had stepped in. On the go-around when she noticed his entrance, she jerked to a stop, her hands braced on the desk face.

"Hey," she panted, her lighthearted smile beginning to wane. "What, uhm..."

Goten bowed his head, feeling that familiar rush of desire and that sinking of guilt. "Trunks," he answered, and when he looked back up, he hated that he had a blush on his face. "Couldn't catch him on his cell, figured I'd swing by to see if he was here."

Bra shook her head, settling back in the chair as she did so. "He's at Marron's, trying to salvage his chances with her." With a half smile, Bra focused her gaze somewhere on a point beyond Goten. "He actually asked me for my advice."

He laughed, imagining his best friend lowering himself in such a way. "Oh, yeah?" Goten asked aloud for Bra to elaborate as he made his way around to plop into the guest chair across from her. "Which was what?"

"Well," she began slowly, her eyes dancing now on the face of the desk, "I said that if he really liked her, he should tell her how he, y'know, feels." The final word brought her blue eyes flickering up to meet Goten's.

The way she held his gaze made him nervous suddenly, and Goten felt that fluttering in the bottom of his stomach. With a pang, he realized what she wanted.

The Talk.

It was slightly fatalistic, knowing that this was **it**. Goten had to swallow the lump in his throat as he broke their staring first, his eyes darting down to his lap. "Good advice," he mumbled, a mild case of dry mouth coming along. "Look, Bra…"

She could feel her heart reverberating in her chest, almost shaking her violently to the core. Bra hated that she was swiftly growing so nervous in front of him. When was the last time she felt this way over a boy?

"Yep?" Was all she could breathe, the air vacuuming up around her ears.

Goten glanced up at her, seeing her rigid with anticipation. He wondered for what she was hoping: for them to break it off or for them to take another step? And really … what did he want?

"What has been going on between us?" Goten asked of her, sincerely uncertain of their situation. "I don't know where we're standing with each other," he sighed and ran a hand through his spiky hair. "And it sucks," he went on, not exactly meeting her gaze, "because I want to treat you like any other girl, but you're _not_."

Bra blushed and ducked her head, her hands wringing in her lap. His candidness was off-putting, after so long of beating around it. She looked up at him, watching him writhe in his place awkwardly, and she felt a stab of sympathy. Did she really have him so riled up?

He shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny. Should he go on? "You're like my sister," he all but whispered, another slash at his morality bringing his soul down deeper. "You're—"

"But I'm not," Bra abruptly interjected, and Goten was startled by her force. He stared at her, admiring and hating the way she blushed.

"Bra, I held you when you were a baby," Goten pointed out intently, narrowing his gaze as she frowned and looked away. "This is three shades of wrong, what we've been doing. You know it," his voice dropped down to a hush, now.

The aqua girl huffed and rolled her eyes, a protective fold of her arms drawing her away from him. "You make it seem like statutory," she grumbled, obviously not appreciating the turn of the conversation. "Goten, I'm not some kid—"

"I'm vaguely aware of that," Goten gave flatly, reliving their blissful sessions momentarily.

"So then what's the problem?" Bra was surprised by how calm her voice was sounding, despite the raging hurricane of resent and longing and other messy emotions that racketed inside her. "I mean, if you like me…"

He sighed, a hand rubbing at his cheek to quell an itch. "It's not that simple."

That did it. Bra was about to call a time-out, she felt her temper rising under his excuses and soft-spoken words. "It can be, if you let it," she snapped.

Goten groaned, his arms throwing up in the air toward her. "So says the girl who gets everything she wants," he growled, feeling an unexpected anger flaring. It puttered out, however, at sight of the deadly look she shot him then. "I'm sorry, Bra," and he genuinely was apologetic, "but you can't tell me it's not wrong."

Bra's fury quieted as he finished, and she sat silent and pensive across from him, observing him. He looked defeated – it was not a good look on that family, Bra considered with a dash of sorrow. With one last battalion of hope, she leaned in closer to him, separated by the large piece of furniture. "…Don't you like me?"

He had not expected such a query, and he turned to look upon her. He hated how gorgeous she was; blue all over, and exponentially prettier than any girl or woman he had ever known. Looking at her, he knew his answer. "Yeah," he croaked, shamed and guilted by his answer, "I do."

They remained quiet then, neither really looking at the other in the wake of their conversation. Finally, Goten pulled himself up from the chair and rounded the desk, hovering over the azure girl who was fighting the sick tendrils of rejection. Bra turned her face up toward him, and he despised the glitter of her irises.

Wordlessly, he dipped his head and placed a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips, but Bra twisted her head to meet his mouth dead on. He sighed against her mouth as she let him in, her hands coming up to fit around his jaw and neck. The awkward position made his neck ache – a reminder of the real world, and he drew back from her lips.

Her pout was tempting, but Goten was focused on his resolve. He passed a hand through her bangs, before planting a peck at the top of her skull.

"I'll see you," he stated as firmly as he could, and he pivoted, making his way to the office door.

**}{**

"Goten!" Marron's surprised blue eyes blinked in the sunlight as it shone down on the visitor to the Kame House. "Come in, come in, it's dreadfully hot," she ushered him past her and into the home.

Goten was soothed by the interior of the home, the air conditioning stifling the heat of summer. "Trunks here, too?" He asked of the blonde, noticing his friend's Italian leather shoes settled neatly in the corner.

A blush took over her complexion as Marron sank to the floor around the coffee table, her feet curled underneath her. "Hai, he's in the kitchen getting lemonade," she gestured in that direction. She smiled as Goten lowered himself to sit across from her, and she observed the battle of emotion plaguing his features. "Heart on your sleeve," Marron reminded him.

He stirred, looking at the blonde uncertainly – until he repeated the words and tilted his head downward. "Right," he chuckled uneasily.

"What's wrong, Goten-kun?" Marron inspected the youngest of the Son boys, her arms folding over the tabletop.

Goten sighed and spared a quick glance askance to the kitchen, ensuring that Trunks would be there for a minute. "Me and that, uh … one girl," he lifted his eyes to grant Marron a pointed look, and she nodded recognition, "… we finally talked, and—well." He finished lamely, shrugging his disappointment.

"Gomen ne," Marron apologized for the ill-fated situation. "Was it really so bad?"

"It wasn't—it wouldn't have worked," Goten rolled his shoulders as he watched his slanted reflection on the table. "I would've liked it to, but it's not supposed to happen, y'know?" He looked up, only to find Marron nodding with what appeared to be half-agreement. It bothered him, the skeptical way she was looking at him now. "..What?"

Marron hefted a shoulder and crinkled her nose as she set her back against the foot of the couch behind her. "Nothing, it's just…" She sighed, flexing her fingers on the table as she threw a take toward the kitchen herself. "Why would you even go there, if you knew it wasn't going to go anywhere?" Marron pointed out with a raise of her eyebrow.

"I know," Goten muttered, defeated and tired of dwelling on nothing but her. "But she started it," he grumped, almost pouting with his words. To his memory, only the slightest of proactive thoughts concerning Bra had graced his (waking) mind since her return home. She had been the pursuer, right?

"Well, she's always liked you," Marron reminded him, both taking a moment to reminisce on Bra's childhood crush. "Do you think maybe you were unintentionally leading her on?"

"Leading who on?" Trunks' voice invaded their conversation, and Goten blushed violently at the arrival of his best friend, brother of the object of his affections.

"Nobody," the blonde answered calmly, flashing a warm smile up at Trunks as she patted the floor by her side. Trunks returned her smile with a grin, setting the tray of drinks down on the table as he plopped down beside her.

As they cuddled and Marron invented a new conversation, Goten quietly sat back and watched him. _Nobody_, he echoed to himself, picturing Bra and thinking how the word just didn't synch up.

**}{**

"Dude, what's wrong?" Pan's face came into view, and Bra stared mutely up at her friend. She was spread out on a lounger by the pool of her home, having immediately ventured back to the compound to escape her pride's burial plot.

"Figure it out," Bra sighed, almost in agitation, as she lowered her sunglasses over her eyes again and closed her lids.

She felt movement by her feet, and knew Pan had settled at the base of the lounger. Suddenly, her friend's hands encircled her wrists and pulled her into an upright position, and Bra bemoaned her abandoned state of relaxation. "Why are you here?" She whined of her friend, pushing her large sunglasses into her mane of marine.

"I came to see if you needed company for your Pity Party," Pan stated as matter-of-factly and eagerly as she could. "Seriously," she returned to her natural way of speaking, "What's the issue? I can feel the mope radiating off of you."

"I mope because of a dope," Bra offered as explanation as she began to lean back on the lounger. "Now, if you—"

Pan grabbed her by the bicep and yanked her up again, shaking her head. "Nope! You're not going to rhyme your way out of this one. Let's get to the nitty-gritty."

"There's no nits in my grits," Bra tried as cutely as possible, only to receive a palm gently shoving her face away. "C'mon, Pan. Let me brood."

"Is this over a guy?" Pan asked abruptly, and Bra considered that all her sunbathing was for naught – she must've turned a whiter shade of pale, given Pan's smirk of triumph. "You never told me there was a guy!"

Bra muttered something unintelligible to herself as she ripped the sunglasses from her crown and tossed them aside, feeling the sudden urge to destroy … something. "There isn't. There wasn't. There was a prospective gentleman, but…" She trailed off, the bile creeping up her throat as she relived her rejection.

"No way," Pan dispelled in hushed tones, seemingly in awe as she read Bra's mind. "He turned you down? What kind of dunce—"

"Your uncle," Bra replied frankly, sick of any kind of charade by now.

Given Pan's befuddled expression, the azure-haired girl smirked and shook her head, squinting up at the sky. "Goten," she continued, reaching into more specificity. "He's the dunce."

"Shut up," came Pan's quieted voice, and Bra had to double-take to make sure she had heard the girl. "…You're serious? You and … and Goten?" She was beginning to sound bewildered, and Bra felt torn between sympathy and the urge to laugh. "Since … when?"

Bra simply shook her head. "There wasn't anything substantial," she sighed, the barest trace of a shrug moving her shoulders. "At least, not enough for him to forgo his loyalties and morals, lowering himself to be with me." Her voice grew into an insulted murmur as the sentence progressed, leaving Bra visibly dejected.

Her comrade sat in stunned silence, Pan's jaw half agape as she stared. The weighted stillness reigned for several unsettling minutes, until Pan finally found voice to her awe. "That's… heavy," she breathed, apparently still perplexed by the notion. "As your friend, I'm obligated to call him a jackass—"

"Don't," Bra requested with an inclination of her head. "It sucks, sure, but I can't berate him for wanting to preserve our families' relationship." This was something Bra had been reminding herself in between rants of Goten's stupidity. She couldn't blame him – what if things didn't work out between them? She certainly didn't want to be responsible for their families' separation.

"It sucks," Bra echoed Goten's sentiment from earlier, her eyes trained on the pool behind Pan. "I really, really liked him."

_Past tense? You still do_, she reprimanded herself. Pan seemed to think similarly, if her glare were any indication. Given the ebony-haired girl's hush, Bra griped, "He said I'm the girl that gets everything she wants." She snorted, hating him for a minute. "Obviously, untrue."

"Is it?" Pan's question startled her, and Bra looked up at her doubtfully.

"What do you—"

"Look," Pan began, apparently recovered from the shock of the big reveal, "you pride yourself on getting what you want. It's just what you do, not slamming you or anything," she covered quickly, noticing the affronted look taking over Bra's features. "So, as gross as I feel to even suggest it, why don't you just do what you always do and … get what you want?"

Stupefied by such a proposition, Bra merely stared at Pan as her heart leapt upward into her throat.


	12. Chapter 12: Okay!

**Author's Note: **This one took a bit longer than expected to churn out. I just was not feeling it for a while, then finally managed to put it together. Bra starts to go after what she wants: Goten-kun. What's the quickest way to a Saiyajin's heart, besides his stomach? ...FIGHTING. ;) Also, Pan's wish for the Dragon Balls is revealed in this chapter, and I credit my good friend Allison for the idea. I really had no idea what her wish could be, then she thought it up and it was just too good to NOT use. So, thank you, Ally!

Without further ado, here's the next chapter! As always, I hope y'all enjoy it and please make sure to read and review! Those who do, I want to truly thank you - especially those of you who are consistent on delivering feedback. It's really awesome to read your reviews, and I appreciate it. :)

**These Daydreams, Okay!**

_Chapter 12: Okay!_

The Briefs' version of dinner together was so utterly different from that of the Son's. Bra felt uneasy at her own table for the first time in her life, the quietness over them thrumming in her ears. She kept her eyes locked on her meal – the priciest of foods, somehow thrown together by her mother, and none of the items on her plate were as 'home made' as what Chi Chi had prepared for her family.

In some twisted way, she almost felt spoiled by having dinner over at Goten's the other night. _… Oh._

_And this is why women are crazy_, Bra thought cynically to herself, realizing she had unexpectedly wound her train of thought toward Son Goten once more. Anything her brain could grasp on to, it somehow mangled all thought processes into paths that led only to him and nothing but.

"So, you worked things out, then?"

Bulma's abruptness jarred all the family members from their respective reveries. Her pointed look at Trunks brought both Bra and Vegeta's attention to lie upon the only son, and Trunks flushed under his mother's inquiry.

"What are you talking about, Bulma?" Vegeta gruffed at his wife upon noticing his son's blushing. He could not contain the sneer of disdain as he turned back to his food. Even after years of Bulma's painstaking domestication of him, the Saiyajin prince still could not rid himself of some prideful peculiarities.

Old habits die hard, or so Bra had always figured of her father's distance at times, particularly when it came to emotions.

Bulma seemed to overlook her husband's grimace as she smiled proudly over at her son, who looked as though he were about to bury himself under the table at any given moment. "Marron! Kurririn called to say Trunks and Marron apparently made up!"

Bra grinned widely to herself at Trunks' personal misery, taking the time to rest her chin in her palm and preen at him. He shot her a threatening look, but she merely ate it up. "What did I saaaay?" She cooed, loving how Trunks lit up even brighter at her teasing. She was sure he'd be bordering on neon with enough nudging.

The mumbling under his breath did not satisfy her ego, and Bra scrunched her nose and leaned closer to him. "Oh, gomen ne, oniichan! I don't think I heard that…"

"You were right," Trunks bit out, every bit of him loathing his sister at that moment. "Geeze, knock it off, I took your advice, didn't I?" With that, he jammed his fork in his slice of beef, stuffing it promptly into his mouth.

The parents traded looks between their children. Bulma was all but beaming at their offspring as Vegeta snorted into his plate, returning his attention to his meal again. "Does that mean you two have made up, too? Well, I am just so glad," she sighed her relief, her glass momentarily raised in praise of the progress her family had made today. After pausing for a sip, she looked over to her son again. "Kurririn said you, Marron, and Goten all hung out today, ne?"

Bra froze at the name, her lip instantly tucked under her teeth as she listened.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Trunks nodding, and she could make out a sad grin coming to his mouth. "Yeah, it was cool. Been a while since we all hung out, but…" He trailed off as his brow furrowed under lilac strands of hair, and he busied himself with pushing the contents of his plate around. "Goten just wasn't himself today. I think something's up."

"What's that brat got to be upset about?"

She shifted uncomfortably under her father's acidic tone. Bra really hoped she didn't look as conspicuous as she felt. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she had suspicions that her father had his own inklings.

"Eh, Marron kind of hinted it was girl troubles," Trunks shrugged, ignoring his father's 'hrumph' as he zeroed in on his mother's concerned face. "She wouldn't go into details."

Her chest was beginning to compress under the anxiety, and Bra rose from the table with her plate in hand. An excusing look offered to the other family members, she turned for the stove where their dinner still remained. Scooping thirds on to her plate, Bra strained her senses to read the conversation while keeping her back turned from the table.

"Well, he's always been successful with women, right?" Bulma's voice sounded a little off, and Bra closed her eyes in silent prayer that her mother could keep herself – or, better yet, her mouth - in check.

Trunks 'hmm'ed and 'haa'ed for a moment under his mother's assumption. "Usually," he agreed, and Bra could hear the wishy-washy lilt in his voice. It made her curious, her attention deviating from the vegetables she was scooping onto her plate. A stray piece of broccoli tipped off the edge and onto the floor.

"Girl, what are you doing?" Vegeta asked over the table to his daughter, and Bra twirled on the spot with a sheepish smile. He made a face at her, shaking his head as he muttered something under his breath.

Coming back to the table, Bra attempted to look only mildly interested with her brother as he continued on, unfazed by his sister's discomfort. "I'm kind of pissed," he admitted with a grumble. "I mean, Marron made it seem like this girl was a pretty big deal-" (Bra really tried her hardest not to blush, dammit!) "-So, I don't get why he hasn't said anything to me."

Smirking around a mouthful of steak, Vegeta snickered, "Maybe it's not a girl."

"Doubtful, dad," Trunks snorted, his eyes rolling at his father's jab at Goku's youngest. "Believe me when I say Goten doesn't swing that way."

_Definitely not_, Bra mused with a glassy stare into her milk. _Oh, most definitely not…_

"Well, then maybe she's a brutish harpy," Vegeta continued nonchalantly, oblivious to his daughter's suddenly fire-engine red cheeks. "Look at Kakarotto and the other one's choices in wives." He clucked his tongue, polishing off the other half of his steak.

_What the FUCK?! _A violent deluge was crashing through Bra and, for a rare but brief moment, she fantasized of doing bodily harm to her own father. Of course, such ideals were wiped clean when she then envisioned the consequences. And for the record, she was neither brutish nor a harpy.

…_Right?_

"Vegeta! Now, you stop being mean," Bulma growled at her husband, a quick look thrown down to her boiling daughter. "Chi Chi and Videl are … lovely women!"

Both Trunks and Vegeta shared a guffaw. "Let's not push it, mom," Trunks let a laugh roll out, his index finger coming to swipe under his eye. "But I have to say, they definitely aren't Goten's type."

"Be that as it may," his mother began again, resisting the urge to throw another furtive look her daughter's way, "I just hope that boy and this … girl can work things out."

**}{**

Surely, she would die under the weight of these emotions that roared beneath her ribcage. Her heart would be crushed under this heavy anvil of agony, and she would pass on in the night with thoughts of him on her mind.

"When did I become a love-struck emo kid?" Bra questioned aloud, scowling at her miserable thoughts. "Oh, just get over yourself, Bra."

"Easier said than done," came her mother's voice as Bulma stepped into Bra's room.

The young girl sat up at once, a glare of trepidation and affront passing over her features. "You can't knock, mama?" She grumbled, her lips pursing as her mother settled at the end of the bed. Certainly, her mother was not as welcomed a guest to her chambers as Son Goten had been days prior. She turned rosy at the thought, immediately turning her gaze away from her mother in fear that Bulma could see into her mind.

And, as far as she was concerned, her mother had definitely seen more than enough of her encounters with Goten.

Bulma, however, appeared to see nothing new in her daughter, and she seemed focused on whatever had brought her up to her youngest's bedroom in the first place. "I suppose that you and Goten decided against pursuing anything further, then?"

Oh, the words hurt. Like little knives of rejection, stabbing and slashing away at her. "No, it totally worked out," Bra snarled sarcastically, a wounded glance tossed toward her mother. "That's why I'm up here, listening to awful angsty rock music."

"No need to get snippy," Bulma advised her child in a warning tone.

Yet Bra was not in any mood to back down. Despite the cogs working away in her head, formulating a way to carry out Pan's plan, she was still scalded from that day's blow to her pride. "You're right, I should just be … what? Chipper, you think?"

When her mother was getting to the end of her rope, Bra knew when to stop. Thus, she quickly folded her lips into a thin line and flicked her gaze downward – a silent apology under Bulma's rising hackles. "You know, I came up here to check up on you – not to deal with your pissy attitude!" She griped at her child as she lifted herself from the bed. "I know how rejection feels, Bra. Don't think you're the first woman to be slighted by a man!"

And Bulma, ever the mistress of high-and-mighty rants, continued uninterrupted by her child, "And you know what you do in that instance? Well, you have two options." Illustrating her point, her mother lifted both her index and middle fingers. "You can either move on," she ticked down her middle finger, "Find someone new, because you are far too beautiful, powerful, and special to be wasting your time on some mediocre half-wit! Or you can say 'fuck it'," Bulma dropped her index finger. "You keep lobbying for his affections until his conviction crumbles and he kneels to your will because, Bra," Bulma settled her fists on her hips, a defiant pose taken over her daughter, "…he most certainly will crumble and kneel. They _always_ do."

Bra turned a furious shade of magenta at Bulma's sudden espousing of motherly advice. She wasn't sure what to do with such information. Her mother was seemingly proud of herself for her well-spoken words that left her child speechless.

"I … I was already kind of planning on option B," Bra admitted after a moment, awkward in her delivery.

"Oh," Bulma offered lamely a couple of long seconds later, and she blinked at her child. "…Well, good."

**}{**

The bell jingled over head, albeit it was drowned out by a chorus of 'HYAH!' Bra hesitated in the doorway, observing the class dressed in matching white gi – at the forefront of the congregation, Son Goten stood poised and proud of the group.

"Nice work, guys," he praised the class, moving to bow to those gathered. They reacted similarly, mirroring his moves. As Goten rose into an upright stance, he glimpsed the flash of aquamarine. An anchor tugged down into his stomach. What was she doing here?

Then he saw her in full. She was leaning against the back wall, next to a couple of parents and siblings. _Watching_. She looked so comfortable, her bright blue eyes trained only on him. He had to swallow the army of nerves that was reaching up his throat. "Uh, so … we're good for the day, then! Dismissed," he announced and the youngsters dispersed to find their ways out of the dojo.

Bra immediately pushed away from the wall once the class was released, her attention riveted by the apprehensive man she made her way toward. Upon reaching him, Bra dropped into a dramatic bow, her hands folded palm-to-palm in front of her. "Konnichi wa, sensei," she greeted with a shade more respect than would be convincing. She righted herself and smirked up at him, her head dropping toward her right shoulder curiously.

_Teasing, now._ Goten rolled his eyes at her dramatics, fighting against the pull she had on him. It was like kicking an addiction, being around her, and he could swear he felt the ribbons of withdrawal winding around his innards. "Now, what brings you 'round here, B-chan?"

"Wellll… I was here to check out the classes," she replied slowly, gaze unwavering upon his dusky eyes. "Maybe see about picking up a lesson."

At that, Goten laughed aloud, harsh enough to startle a few pupils lingering nearby. "You? Bra, despite how much you hate fighting anyway," he lifted both eyebrows at this, as it was a point all in its own, "you could admittedly destroy some of these students with your pinky finger. No way."

Her patented pout drew creases in the corners of her mouth, Goten felt himself sag downward with her lips. "I don't hate fighting," she argued futilely.

"I can't remember the last time I'd ever seen you do anything involving physicality, Bra," Goten pointed out with a shake of his head. "And if you wanna learn so bad, ask Trunks."

"Nope," was her reply, short and sweet.

Her quickness bothered him, for some reason. "And why—"

"Trunks and I aren't allowed to touch each other," Bra answered immediately, her shoulders hefting innocently. "And dad wouldn't think of laying a hand on me, so he's out of the question, too," she continued, sounding almost practiced. Goten had the distinct feeling this had been rehearsed – without him even being there.

Two options eliminated, he grew a little more uneasy at the gleam in her teal orbs. "So, then, Pan."

A chortle shook her tiny body, and he cringed. "And you think Pan's going to waste her precious time trying to teach me little ki blasts and defensive blocking?" Bra 'tsk'ed, apparently ashamed of Goten's shortsightedness. "You know how preoccupied she is with trying to ascend the old fashioned way. Why add something so insignificant to her plate?"

Ah, yes. Goten frowned to himself, recalling his niece's predicament. Pan _was_ a bit goal-oriented recently, wasn't she? When her quest for the Dragon Balls proved to be a bust, she had decided that she'd work to become the first female Super Saiyajin all by herself with honest training. Given her naturally short temper and the stress of her training, he was doubtful she would really pay Bra much of a second glance at this kind of request. Best friend or no.

In her evil little mind, Bra enjoyed the show his features played out for her. Each shift in his expression was a tiny reveal that brought her that much closer to his consent. She already felt success in her fingertips.

"It really … it's not in your benefit, Bra-chan," Goten sighed, one last ditch effort to dislodge the hope from her eyes. "And there's no way I can teach you in the class, they're on a completely different level than that."

The tiny opening she had been waiting for. Bra darted her eyes down and then back up again, playing her best innocent ingénue as she inched a little closer toward him. "So, train me outside of your classes," she suggested unhurriedly, her eyes searching his twisted face. "Think of it like … private tutoring."

**}{**

After a few more pleads and puppy looks, Goten was persuaded. Bra couldn't help but be impressed with herself – how easily he had swayed. It made her heart swell with optimism, the situation between them that much brighter and hopeful. Particularly, as he had suggested of his own volition that they could perhaps begin their training today.

Outside of his family home, the pair stood panting, poised across from one another in their personal defensive positions. The weather was sweltering as the wild life chirruped in anticipation of their ensuing sparring session. Bra was kind of regretting even taking this route. She really did despise physical exertion – she was sweating from places she didn't even KNOW could sweat – and Goten was substantially stronger and faster than her.

But even she couldn't deny the allure of the fight. Colliding fists and the chase; her skin goosebumped every time she blocked a punch from him, and when she had landed a particularly wicked roundhouse on him, Bra was sure she had never felt so satisfied.

She was not particularly skilled with offensive moves, but she learned at a young age how to dodge and defend. She was definitely quicker than Goten had anticipated.

"You sure you need the extra help, Bra-chan?" Goten puffed, a wild sort of grin spread across his face. Color him surprised; Bra was proving to be a formidable opponent, even without thorough training. She'd obviously had _some_ practice in her youth – a few of her moves suggested Pan had once been a 'tutor.'

Bra blushed harder under the natural pink glow taking over her typically pallid skin tone. "I told you, I don't need help with speed. It's my forte," she breathed out with a suggestive wink that made his skin crawl – in the good way. Relaxing her posture, she assumed a regular standing position. "C'mon, Goten-kun. Show me a move I don't know."

Her innuendos were becoming spectacular, and her energized efforts during their sparring had wreaked havoc on Goten's senses. Without a second thought, he chuckled and nodded assent to her plea as he marched over to her side. "Okay, okay…" He began on another slow intake of breath. Goten pondered for a moment as he looked past Bra, thinking over his repertoire and what feats Bra may be capable of accomplishing before dusk. Finally, it occurred to him.

"Kamehameha. You down for that?"

Bra had to double-take at his suggestion. "The—really?" She wondered, her plan forgotten, replaced by the awe of possibly learning this technique. Her brother hadn't even learned it. To her knowledge, it was strictly within the Son family and those that may have been under the tutelage of Muten Roshi. "Goten, I can barely make a ki ball," she admitted with a stutter, feeling suddenly shamed by her lack of skill by comparison. "How am I supposed to--?"

"Easy," Goten sounded so sure and bright, but it only made Bra feel more perturbed. "Show me what you can do with your energy, then we'll work from there."

Any nefarious ideas of seduction or the like had evaporated by this point, and Bra was just left with a fretful churning in her stomach at the idea of even possibly performing this technique. Her ki skills were less than impressive – she could fly, that was something, right? But she had never really made any significant progress in the art. However, Goten was looking at her with such certainty; like he just _knew_ she could do it.

Thickly, she swallowed, and Bra started to lift her hand uncertainly. "What, uhm, should I…?"

"Just concentrate," Goten told her with a softer grin. "Show me anything. Do whatever, Bra-chan. Don't be nervous, either. Everyone has to start somewhere."

"Easy for you to say," she grumbled, her hand held up before her as she slowly closed her eyes. _Now, how did this go?_ Her mind just could not stop whirring behind her lashes; there was no way she was going to get anything out of this. And now she felt embarrassed – what was she even doing here? _Worst plan ever, good job,_ she groused at herself, her face contorting with her agitation.

"Stop," Goten voice was closer than it was before. He was standing beside her, she knew, without even opening her eyes. "Whatever you're thinking, forget about it. Just… think of the energy. Inside of you, all around you." Lowering his voice to a notch above a whisper, he continued, "Concentrate on forcing the energy into your palm. Nothing else."

Bra couldn't help herself, and she smirked, embracing the warmth that ran up her spine. "Not easy to do, when you're getting all preachy like this, sensei," she murmured. He instantly quieted, and she felt both peace and sadness at his silence. However, what he had said worked; it was like a warm stream, the current rippling through her veins and into her palm. When she felt the heat, Bra opened her eyes to find a glowing orb floating in her hand. She brightened, her smile taking over most of her face. "Oh my god, look!" She gushed, glancing excitedly up at Goten. "Aww! It's so pretty, right?"

"It is pretty," he agreed under a chuckle, but she noticed with a blush that he didn't look at the energy ball in her hand.

Bra cleared her throat and nodded toward the ki orb. "What should—should I throw it?" Her voice hitched with uncertainty.

Goten laughed again, fuller this time, and stepped to the side to reveal a tree, a safe distance behind him. His invitation was enough for Bra, and she stuck her tongue out of the corner of her mouth as she reared back and pitched the ki ball toward the trunk. Upon collision, the light and energy expanded and erupted, effectively destroying the tree and it collapsed.

With a squeal, she spun to face Goten, her entire face aglow with pride. "Did you see that?! **I** blew something up!" She yelped, and she clasped her hands together eagerly. "I've never blown something up with just ki! That was great!" Her energy was quelled by Goten's hand grazing her arm in a pleased pat, and Bra remembered her raison d'etre.

And perhaps Goten realized it too, as he swiftly withdrew his hand. "Practice a little more," he told her with a rough cough, a fist rising to cover his mouth and, consequently, his blush. "Then we can see about the Kamehameha."

She smiled, her ulterior motives momentarily ignored as she – as platonically as possible – leaned over to fold her arms around Goten's neck in a hug. "Arigato, Goten-kun," she thanked him, pulling away from him before his arms could tighten around her. "I really appreciate it."

"Yeah, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't … say anything. To anybody," he tittered nervously, a hand to the back of his neck. He felt the lingering press of her fingers still there, and he promptly dropped his hand to his side. "I think nobody wants to train you for a reason, Bra-chan."

Genuinely curious at such a statement, Bra canted her head to inspect Goten from another angle. "Hontou ni? Why would you think that?"

"I think a lot of people sometimes mistake your being a girl for fragility," Goten told her, the words feeling weird as he spoke them. He had just witnessed her prowess in combat – while she was nothing comparable to his relatives or hers, she was still definitely stronger than your average human. Definitely Saiyajin. "Speaking as one of those people who made the same mistake."

Bra didn't know whether to smile or feel insulted by this admission. She understood where he came from, though. It wasn't as though she had ever given anyone a reason to think she was above what she portrayed herself as; a spoiled rich girl who liked to shop and liked boys. _…Oh, yeah! _

_Ulterior motive: ON._

She blushed and chose to smile, her teal eyes swooping upwards along Goten to find his eyes. "So, then, you're saying you perceive me differently now?" Her query was delivered as coquettishly as possible, her hands winding their way behind her back as her fingers laced together.

Goten was held, struck by her eyes. How did they look so deep and inviting? He really didn't know how to place it. Her question, however, deserved an answer, and he tried to look away from her as he sought a reply. "I've been seeing you differently for a while, Bra-chan." Now, he fixed her with a stare of his own, a trace of a grin hinting his mouth up. "You know that."

"Mmhmm," she wordlessly concurred, a slow step closer to him taken as she was momentarily distracted by the motion of his lips. "I guess so. So, when can I come back for another lesson?"

Her expectant blinking made him nauseous. Goten scratched just behind his ear as he tried to think of a safe amount of time to pass. "I guess, a couple days?" He offered, though he immediately detested his choice. He didn't want to sound eager about having her back. "I mean, whenever you—"

"Two days? Fine," she agreed spiritedly, bouncing on her toes. "I look forward to it!" Bra hesitated, before she moved closer again and placed a tiny peck on the left side of his jaw. With some satisfaction, Bra could feel him writhe on the spot as she bid his earlobe a soft farewell. "Ja ne, Goten-kun."

**}{**

"Where have you been?"

Her father's voice had been the last one she expected, and Bra froze in the middle of toeing off her trainers. In her peripheral, she saw Vegeta standing beside the entrance to the living room – and his face read that he was not pleased with something.

"Uhm, out," was Bra's lame excuse as she kicked off her remaining sneaker into the corner by the door. "Mom said I could," she continued almost defensively at Vegeta's narrowed glare.

"Where, 'out?'"

The third degree was never a good sign. Generally, her father trusted her enough – or possibly feared her enough, sometimes it confused her – to let Bra be. It was only when he had something else in mind that he drilled the questions.

"Pan's," Bra elaborated without missing a beat, albeit she inwardly derided herself for lying to her father's face.

Vegeta's cheek twitched, and she saw his nostrils flare, followed by the crinkle of his brow. "You're sweaty and smell like the outdoors and effort," he told her flatly, and Bra felt the color rise to her cheeks.

"Dad, don't smell me," Bra begged him, a disgusted sneer causing her nose to wrinkle up. "It's gross when you do that."

He merely eyed his daughter, a look of disapproval slowly taking root on his face. Bra watched her father, a broad silence stretching between them. What would she do, if he sensed something else about her? About the company she had kept today? She wasn't sure if she was prepared for that scenario. Finally, Vegeta 'hmphed' and moved into the living room once more, leaving Bra and her relief alone in the foyer.

She raced up to her bedroom thereafter, intent on an intense scrub-down to rid herself of not only that pesky sweaty-outdoorsy-effort smell, but also any other unwanted lingering scents that might attract her father's outrage.


	13. Chapter 13: Cassius!

**Author's Note: **I LIIIIVE!!! Sorry for the late update, just been busy getting back into the swing of things as a fulltime worker. I forgot how exhausting it can be! Anyway, so here we go. I thiiiink we're nearing the conclusion of my story. Maybe a chapter or two more? We'll see how it works out. :)

Words to Know for this chapter:

"Miyama-siro-cho" - this is a species of butterfly that's indigenous to parts of China/Japan.

As always, please, please be sure to review! I really do enjoy seeing what y'all think!!

**These Daydreams, Okay!**

_Chapter 13: Cassius!_

"Like this?"

"No, no… put it this way…"

"Ouch! Goten, I don't know if I like this…"

"Do you want to do this or not?"

"Well, you're_ crowding_ me."

There in the backyard of the Son household on Mount Paozu, it was a classic scene. Even Bra couldn't deny the perfection of the day, which seemed to just be getting better and better as it progressed. The season's dwellers were singing, the sun was high in the cloudless sky. Goten had his arms about her, enfolding her own arms into a proper position. The base of his palms rested on the backs of her hands.

The Miyama-siro-cho fluttering on the refreshing breeze weren't the only butterflies active that day. Bra did her best not to squirm in the comfortable nook Goten had built around her as she steadied the heels of her hands against each other. She was feeling a little bit lacking today – she hadn't made much progress on her mission, caught up instead in their lessons. He seemed to get so absorbed in the art, in the movements, and it fascinated her. And she had to admit, a few times during their handful of sessions, she found herself preoccupied with the motions than with her conquest.

_Must be a Saiyajin thing_, she thought to herself. At any rate, there was nothing that could take her mind off Goten's proximity now, especially as his chest (his hot, damp, muscular chest) pressed closer against her back. With the greatest effort, Bra kept herself from swooning.

"Now," Goten began against her ear, apparently unaware of any effects his propinquity might generate. "You're going to pull back slowly, drawing the energy in. Concentrate on pulling the energy out of your center," his palm hovered over her midriff, and his fingertips radiated heat. _How could he not feel this?_ "…And focus it into your hands."

"And after that?" Bra breathed, barely able to contain herself.

Unfettered and jovial, Goten patted her hip playfully before he returned his hand against her own in the previous stance. "After that, hopefully you have pretty good aim, 'cause it should be all over then!" Childish grin aside, he narrowed his gaze down at her. "You think you got it?"

It was a challenge in its own right. Bra turned just slightly in his arms, fixing him with a smirk and arching a single brow. "Oh, I _so_ got this," she assured him in what could only be considered a purr. Twisting back into place, satisfied with his slight blush, she set her gaze upon the distance, already imagining something – besides Goten's eyes – smoldering. "Don't doubt that for a second, buckaroo."

"Then show me what you've got."

That was all the egging on she needed. Her lids drifted down, and Bra focused on herself. She could draw up her energy with ease now, though she still had a bit of trouble with concentration of her ki.

From behind, Goten observed the scrunching of her facial features. He was mesmerized by the knit of her brow, the way her mouth pulled downward in her meditation. Her enthusiasm for their training had initially caught him off guard; he really hadn't predicted the level of dedication she had exhibited. Granted, they hadn't met more than four times, but with each session, she improved significantly.

And Goten found that, with a tug on his stomach, the more they trained together, the closer he felt he had to be to her. Even now, with Bra trapped between his arms, Goten still felt he wasn't near enough to her. This definitely concerned him.

He saw her picking it up. It was so subtle that, if he hadn't been watching her so intently, he definitely would've missed it. Her eyebrow twitched just so, and in that moment he felt the warmth gathering in between her hands. Resisting the urge to fold her hands in with his, Goten braced his hands in a mirror of her own. "That's it…" he encouraged, unable to fight his proud grin. "Now, bring it back. Ka…"

Bra followed his instructions, keeping her lashes firmly tucked against her cheeks as she maintained focus. Following the gentle movements of his hands, she twisted her connected hands. "Ka…"

"Me…"

"Ha…"

"Me…"

Her heartbeat was racing in her ears. She could barely make out his breath on her hair or the crackling energy in her hands. When Bra felt her heart pause, she opened her eyes and sent the ki blast firing off with a forceful push.

"HA!!"

White-blue energy shot through the air and into the distant hills as warm air billowed backward from the flare. It was short-lived, but the rush sent rivers of adrenaline flooding through Bra's veins. After the moment of awe passed, the girl lit up instantly with a shrill squeal.

Spinning around in Goten's arms, Bra grasped at his shirt enthusiastically. "I did it! Yattaaaa!!" Her cry of victory was punctuated with her arms thrust upward into the sky, fists clenched tight.

Unable to do much more than chuckle, Goten left his hands at her elbows as he grinned proudly down at her. "Very impressive," he praised on a laugh, which stuttered out as Bra launched herself into him. His air passage locked as her arms wrapped around his neck in a vice grip. He shuddered at her warm cheek against his neck, at the rich scent of her hair, at her giggles vibrating into him.

Still reeling, Bra eagerly drew away from his neck and landed three quick, feverish pecks along his cheek, jaw, and finally, to his mouth.

The engine in him whirred into life at once. Instinctually, Goten's hands snaked to her waist, pulling her in closer, and Bra melted against him as her mind soared in the wake of her small triumph.

_Success tastes kind of tangy_.

A tiny moan slipped in between their mouths as Goten invaded her, and he drew back from her immediately. "No," he huffed as she stepped away, and he doubled over with the effort it took not to reach out for her again. He kept his gaze diverted to the ground as he planted his palms against his thighs, drawing in deep calming breaths.

The piercing shout of frustration startled him. When Goten found the strength to look up at her, he found her gaping at him in something close to fury.

"This was mean of you, Bra," he griped after a moment and he straightened up. Her indignation made it plain to him; underhanded plotting had been the foundation of her seeking lessons.

With a sneer, Bra crossed her arms over her waist, her head tilted up in derisive observation of his realization. "Goten, you're not that dumb." A small step closer to him, and her condescending glower was morphing into a smirk. "Like you didn't have the ittiest, bittiest inkling?"

"Doesn't make it right," Goten scolded her, slowly becoming wary of her advance.

She rolled her eyes toward the sky and settled her hands over the curve of her waist. "Okay, so then why'd you agree? I mean," Bra began to draw her words out as she inched closer, "if you kind of, maybe, sort of knew…"

He hated himself as he looked upon her, nowhere near resembling the little girl he once knew. "I wanted to see how you move," he admitted grudgingly, feeling her heavy hooded eyes break into his chest and squeeze the determination out of him.

When her clement palms fell against his chest, Goten knew he wasn't getting out of here alive. Her cyan eyes sought out his dark gaze, and he was rewarded for his compliance with a playfully smile. "And what do we think of how I move?" Her question was breathy and girlish, all teasing, and he knew that she knew she would win.

The angle and inclination of her head was the perfect setup to steal a kiss. She was begging him to do so. Here, in broad daylight, protected by the seclusion of his family's homestead, where prying eyes could not judge or threaten. His morals were thick in his throat, but Goten swallowed them down as he leant inward.

"Goten! Yo!"

Both froze mid-moment. Bra's eyes flashed when she saw Goten's resolve build back up and he wiggled back from her. "Shit," she hissed through clenched teeth, her gaze skirting into her peripheral to find Son Gohan approaching the duo. Licking her lips, Bra took an appropriate step away and tried her best to smile cattily at the advancing Son.

Goten, meanwhile, could already feel his brother's curious inspection of the situation. "Oniichan," his voice wavered on its way out, and Goten could feel his insides shrivel up as Gohan's eyes narrowed in on the Briefs heiress. "What's up, man?"

"Just was gonna drop off some of the money for mom's car's repairs," Gohan muttered, focused on eyeing Bra. "Bra-chan, it's been a while," he greeted with apprehension, and he sent his attention sailing over the yard. "Is Trunks around, too?"

"No," Bra really tried very hard to sound pleasant enough. Really, she did. _But when all your hard work is foiled by inappropriately timed visits from relatives…_ "Just me."

"Just … you?" Apparently, this was a concept Gohan had difficulty wrapping his brain around and he looked between the younger two. "Were you looking for Pan? She was—"

"Nope."

Goten gawked at Bra's frankness, and he felt crimson creeping into his cheeks. "Yeah, so!" He jutted his open hand into his brother's line of vision – consequently, in between Gohan's view of Bra's snide little smile. "If you wanna, I can just give mom the money when she gets back? She's getting groceries now."

Gohan's suspicions were not quelled. With a curt nod in Bra's direction, he returned his attention upon his flustered brother. "What's going on, Goten?"

A little more than annoyed with his prying, Bra snorted and rolled her shoulders as she began forward across the lawn. "Nothing, Gohan-san," she all but snapped, and as she breezed by the boys, she glowered in Goten's direction. "I'm going to head home. Thanks for the lesson, Goten."

She didn't sound so appreciative, and Goten grimaced at her departing figure. "…Matte! Bra!" He called after her and, doing his best to avert his gaze from his brother's scornful staring, Goten jogged up after her. He caught her by the elbow a few scant paces from her aircar.

Bra whirled on him, her arm yanked out of his grasp. "Nani?" She sulked, a much less attractive scowl screwing up her features. He really hated this petulance on her. How could she go from seductress to pouty princess in such a short span of time?

Goten spared a wayward glance across to his still-peering brother. Lowering his voice, he offered as a means to placate, "I'll call you, okay?"

"Not good enough," she spat, her arms folding protectively over herself. Goten should've been pleased to see her closing herself off. This is what they would need right now, right? Instead, he felt his mind racing for a way to stop her before she shut down on him completely.

With a groan, Goten rolled his eyes and stepped closer to her, his voice dropping further into a hush. "Don't do this in front of him," he pleaded, and was comforted seconds later by her consideration of Gohan behind him. "It's not…" He trailed off, unsure of which thing this situation was not.

_Appropriate? Favorable? You?_

Her frown lessened, and Goten's worries began to fade quickly. "Fine," she puffed, settling a narrowed look upon the youngest Son brother. Doing his best to conceal his motions, Goten pressed his hand against her forearm. However, Bra did not seem to be entirely appeased, and she drifted away from him and toward her car. The jingle of keys and the slam of metal were followed by the howl and gusto of her aircraft's engines as it lifted up.

Goten couldn't help but feel a little wounded when he couldn't catch her gaze before she took off. With a sigh, he turned to face his brother, who was a caricature of disapproval and shock.

"What … the hell … was that?"

**}{**

"Well, you can't expect that from him," came the tender voice at the other end.

But Bra was not seeking comfort or kind tones. "I don't care! I know he likes me," she growled, her fist tightening against the steering wheel. "You do, too. I know you do, Marron. What has he told you about me? Tell me!"

Her command went unheeded. "That's between him and me," Marron told her firmly. "Now, I really must go. My boyfriend's over—"

"Ugh, gross," Bra groaned into the phone, mock-gagging on her end.

"—So I'll talk to you later, mmkay?"

With a sigh, Bra rolled her eyes. "Yeah, sure. Enjoy your evening, Marron-chan."

Her aircar descended into the parking space attached the Capsule Corporation compound. Once landed, Bra made haste to exit her car, ready to be inside her home and away from her failure.

"Is it really a failure? I mean, he almost—" Bra babbled to herself as a means to comfort her sunken pride, though she quieted upon entrance to her home. A familiar ki within the compound unnerved her, and the girl tilted her head to seek it out. _There was no way she was…_

"Bra?" Pan's voice whispered from the corner, and Bra wheeled around, aghast. "What took you so long!?" Her friend seethed and approached her briskly, the girl's hands gripping anxiously at her own ebony locks.

"What the hell are you even doing here?!" Bra's voice dipped into a furious whisper as she scanned the atrium of the home. "I'm supposed to be at your place! You can't be here!"

"Yeah, that would be all well and good … if you had TOLD me," Pan groused. "You have fallen off, Bra. Seriously."

A weakness struck her in the knees, and Bra had to struggle to keep standing. "…I forgot to call you," she realized on a shaky exhale. "Shit, do my parents--?"

"Bra! Get in here!" Bulma's high-pitched demand sent shivers of fear down Bra's spine.

**}{**

"ARE YOU NUTS?" Gohan squawked at his brother, gesticulating wildly. "What—I mean, you DO know whose daughter she is, right!?"

The gravity of the situation was not lost of Gohan. This was a relief to Goten – albeit it also proved to be a bit of an annoyance. Grumpily, the younger man dropped his chin into his palm and eyeballed his brother expectantly. The shock would wear off soon; of that, he knew for sure. "Yeah, I kind of got that, bro. So you get it, right?"

"No," Gohan shook his head as he still looked perturbed. "No, I don't get it. Not only is she Vegeta's daughter, your best friend's sister, but she's… she's almost Pan's age," he blanched, looking very honestly repulsed by the notion.

Goten grimaced and yelped at the comparison, waving his brother's association off. "Oh, stop with that. She's a few years older than that and she—"

"I swear to God, if you say she 'acts older', I'm gonna—" Gohan's threat began, his face withering in sheer awe of his brother's audacity.

Shrinking back against the couch, Goten didn't meet his brother's gaze. "Well, she does," he defended his argument half-heartedly. "Look, I know the wrong. I've written eight pages of pros and cons on this, dude." His hands fell open in his lap, and Goten focused his attention into the lines of his palms. "But… I can't help it. I just can't keep away from her."

Sympathetically, Gohan's hand fell on his brother's shoulder. They sat for a few silent, contemplative seconds, before Gohan gave Goten a rough shake. "Well, I could've told you that training her wouldn't help you there."

**}{**

It had been three minutes of nothing but reprimanding on her mother's part, but Bra's attention was locked solely upon her father, who had been consumed with his personal brand of stoic silence.

"…And you could get hurt! Have we taught you nothing? I mean, really!" Bulma gushed in her exasperation with her child, halting mid-pace to throw her arms up. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

Bra's answer seemed to be lost somewhere, as silence echoed in the room.

"…Do I really need to--?"

"Shut up," Vegeta's first words came as an interruption to Pan's query. His gaze had been settled on Bra the entirety of Bulma's rant – distrustful and inspecting. And now his thick eyebrows moved inward and his eyes narrowed upon his child. "Your mother asked you a question, girl."

"I don't know what you want me to say," Bra shrugged helplessly, glancing between her parents.

"The truth," her father snapped, and Bra felt her head buzz at the harshness of his tone.

Heaving a sigh, Bra sat back into the couch and fixed her mother with a suddenly pointed look. Bulma stood above her daughter, scrutinizing her face intently. The wordless communication between the two took a moment, but eventually, Bulma seemed to understand. "Ohhh…."

Vegeta glanced sharply at his wife. "What, 'oh?'"

"It's—it's nothing," Bulma covered immediately, blushing under the depreciative glare from her daughter. "It's that Bra has this project—"

"Mom!" Bra shot up at once, and Pan was up quickly thereafter by her friend's side. "Can we not?" She implored her mother, trying not to feel her father's inquisitive stare bleeding into her peripheral.

Vegeta growled and stepped closer to the two blue-hued women. "No, we very well can't … not," he stumbled over his daughter's awkwardly worded phrase, trying to find the negative. "I do not like being lied to," he rounded on his child now, and Bra actually felt herself shrink under his approach. "I do not like things to be hidden from me. What 'project?'" His glower stretched across to Bulma, and she too wilted under his contained fury.

To Bra's horror, Bulma began to open her mouth in reply.

"I've—I've been training," Bra piped up over her mother, drawing her father's attention away from Bulma. "Like … fighting." Her voice weakened under the intensity of his gaze, and she forced herself to keep her eyes set on his.

"…_What_?" Bulma and Vegeta's voices both merged in a single unbelieving gasp, and Vegeta threw a dirty look at his wife. "You _knew_?"

"I—" Bulma halted, and she looked askance to her daughter. "…Well. Yes."

Vegeta looked down at his daughter, who was doing her best not to falter under him. There was something peculiar about his expression now. Bra wondered if it was surprise – such a rarity to find with her father. "…Why?" A beat and then, much more intently, "And with whom?"

Bra glanced beside her to Pan, who looked just terrified by the unfolding situation. She caught the barest of head-shakes from the younger girl. "I… wanted to…" She was grasping at straws, trying to find the most appropriate, believable response. But nothing was coming. Defeated, she sighed and shrugged up at her father. "I don't know what I wanted. To try something new, I guess," she offered with a downcast sort of look.

"And _with whom_?" Vegeta's secondary question was repeated, and Bra felt herself flush bright pink at the sternness of his repetition.

"I-I—" Bra's mouth moved, and yet no sensible sounds or words came out. Helplessly, she looked from her mother to her best friend.

"Vegeta, does that matter?" Bulma did her best to intervene earnestly on her daughter's behalf. "I mean, she—"

"It does matter," he growled, his gaze unwavering on child.

It was a make-or-break situation.

Now, she could lie. However, this would most likely result in extended employment as Trunks' secretary and other horrible, soul-crushing, brain-smashing penalties. Like having her father stare at her distrustfully or, should the lie be successful, having to live with the lie and function around it.

Or, she could go with honesty. This could also result in the aforementioned punishment and penalties, and instead of distrust she could earn disgust and disappointment from her father and risk everything she had been working towards with Goten.

Bra considered her options, and she decided.

**}{**

Abruptly, Goten sneezed, startling his family collected around the Son dinner table.

Chi Chi glanced over at her son, her gaze concerned at once. "Goten-kun, daijoubu desu ka?"

"Uh, yeah," he sniffled, twitching his nose in agitation. "Just allergies, I think."


	14. Chapter 14: It's Over!

**Author's Note: **So, now the cat's halfway out of the bag. TIME FOR CONFRONTATIONS, OOOH. Everybody ready for the dramz? ;) I really hope I didn't get too schmoopy with Bra and Goten in this chapter -- I really hate that, but I can be a sucker for that kind of stuff. Oh well.

Please keep reviewing, I love what you have to say, even constructive criticism is welcome. Thank you all who've continued to read my story! I hope you enjoy what little of it remains. :)

**These Daydreams, Okay!**

_Chatper 14: It's Over!_

Glorious ribbons of sunlight wove their way through the lace curtains, accompanied by the growing rumblings and booms outside the Capsule Corporation compound. This was how Bra met the morning. With a groan, she rolled on to her side, comforted by the cool, shadowed portion of her bed. Unfortunately, this did not bar nor cease the noise that filtered in, seemingly louder and louder.

The final edges of sleep began to fray and fade, and Bra squinted into the morning light that dimly lit her bedroom. Undoubtedly, it was her brother and father – ever the early risers – getting in a good spar for the day. The thought stabbed in her brain, a reminder of the discussion from the night before with her parents.

A particularly loud crash jolted her upright in bed, as she yelled toward her open window, "KNOCK IT OFF!"

Bra definitely was not a morning person. Never was. And a glance at her bedside clock advised her that she was not an afternoon person, either. With yet another moan of displeasure, she crawled her way out of bed, tummy rumbling and head pounding.

Padding downstairs, Bra found the rest of the house comfortably quiet; the clamor from outside was muffled within the interior of the home. However, upon entry to the kitchen, the clarity of the sounds reached a peak. She swung the fridge door open almost violently, half-asleep still as she strode about the kitchen collecting the necessities for her Cheerios. Breakfast made, Bra settled herself into the dining table – yet her bowl nearly toppled out of her hands as she glanced outside the sliding doors into her yard.

Quick as the speed of light, she could barely make out the streams of lavender and black, yet the familiar tingle in her toes assured her that it certainly was not her father giving Trunks a run for his money.

Hastily, she dropped the bowl onto the table and made for the backyard, ignoring the splattering of milk and excess Cheerios.

**}{**

The two skidded to a halt mid-air, out of breath and on a time-out. Both boys were drenched, still buzzing and crackling with the energy and exertion, and neither could wipe the self-satisfied smirks from their faces. Things were finally clicking together with the pair, lives finally intertwining to accommodate their friendship. Goten was beyond relieved; he had truly missed Trunks and their time together, regardless of whether it was sparring or trolling.

"Man, you're on fire today," Goten praised on a shaky exhale and with a lopsided grin, a lazy thumb's up granted his comrade's way.

Trunks gave the merest of bows, his arms folding over his middle and the other crossed behind him. "I told you, don't underestimate me. But, gotta say, there's some stuff in there that's new. You been practicing with someone else?" The query was joking, an added pout affected.

Goten couldn't help the blush, and he prayed it came off as redness from their work. "Ah… no, just been trying something new, y'know?" Admittedly, there were a couple of defensive techniques he had unthinkingly borrowed from Bra's repertoire, as well as ones he had invented during their sessions together.

He deflated a bit, disappointed in himself at once. He had gone nearly five minutes without even thinking of the girl. Half the reason he had decided to drop in on the Briefs family was her. They had much to discuss, as far as Goten was concerned.

Goosebumps began to rise on his arms, and Goten knew it before Trunks even began to descend.

"Sleeping Beauty's decided to greet the world!" Goten heard Trunks call out on his way back down to the ground.

He looked toward the porch, the glint of aqua catching his eye as he hovered downward. Bra was standing on the walkway, dressed in her sleepwear. Goten's insides rolled as he took in her tank-top and sleep shorts, still crinkled from the night. Her hair had not met a brush that morning – it wasn't messy, but he could make out the clumps that had curled overnight, the ones that tickled around her neck and jaw.

Yet her face was set, pink lips pressed into a thin line, azure gaze unreadable.

"What are you doing here?" She nearly snapped, eyes pinned on the younger of the two men. _Not the nicest tone ever_, Goten observed with distaste.

"Well, good morning to you, too."

Bra's baby blues narrowed at once. "Shut up." Obviously, now was not the time for smart-assery. She looked somewhat panicked, her neck stretched and her fingers drumming rapidly at her waist. Bra's gaze skipped over both boys almost expectantly, and Goten found himself bothered by her antsy demeanor.

"No need to scare Goten off with your sparkling morning attitude, Bra," Trunks chided his sister, a pointed eyeroll permitted Goten's way. "We're just sparring—"

"I know what you're doing. Why the hell do you think I'm up?" Bra all but growled as her eyes slid contemptuously over her brother.

Trunks heaved a sigh. There would be no reckoning with this beast, and so he turned instead to face his friend. "I'm getting a water. You want?"

Yet Goten's attention was still fastened to the morning glory before them, and he simply nodded, offering a bland, "Beer?" as his reply. Trunks eyed the dark-haired man curiously before he brushed aside his sister and entered the compound, very aware of her trailing glare.

As soon as Trunks had vacated, Bra rounded upon Goten once again, her teeth flashing. "Well?" She pressed, arms leaping into a folded position across her chest.

Goten started at the deepness of her voice, the threat woven into her position. "I'm visiting Trunks," he explained slowly, taking in each tiny nuance Bra allowed. "Plus, didn't you kind of imply that you … I don't know, maybe wanted to see me?" His question tapered off into something akin to confusion, laced with a twinge of hurt.

His explanation drew a long breath out of the sea foam beauty, whose gaze lifted to the clouds rolling overhead. The promise of rain. "Yeah, change of plans."

The words were heavy. Goten almost flinched under them, under the exasperation. "What're you talking about? Just yesterday, you were--"

"Do you promise not to get mad?" Bra abruptly wondered of him, her eyes swooping back down to survey his face. She appeared almost nervous, those arms constricting together tighter.

His stomach flip-flopped at her request. In Goten's experience – which was vast, if he did say so himself – when a girl made you 'promise' anything, let alone to 'not get mad', it rarely meant anything pleasant. His eyebrows drew down, and Goten took an unconscious step closer. An unspoken 'why?'

Bra's head dipped downward, as she moved back a pace, her mass of blue hair shielding half of her face from him. He hated not being able to make out her features, and he strained to see her expression shifting with her words. "I … told my parents that you've been training me," she confessed, and she winced as she watched his feet stumble backward.

"You … you what?" Goten's wonderment was barely a breath, and Bra was glad she managed to keep her gaze trained on their feet, rather than watch his unfolding horror. "Why the fuck would you do that?"

Upon his gruffer tone, she cringed again, and Bra jerked her head up with a frown. Immediately, she regretted it, as she took in the dread-and-irritation cocktail that he emoted. "I forgot to call Pan yesterday to cover for me! So she came over looking for me, and … y'know."

The hitch of her shoulder antagonized him. "And you, what, couldn't think up a good old fashioned white lie?" He groaned as he brought his palms to drag over his face. "Shit, what the hell, Bra?"

"Look," she started hotly, temper beginning to flare under her embarrassment, "you're making it into a big deal, and it's not! All I said was you were training me and—"

"And nothing else?" Goten cut in, eyes hopeful, tone harsh.

"What, nothing else?" Trunks' voice sounded from behind Bra, and both she and Goten turned to watch him step out onto the porch, bottle of water and can of beer in hand.

Bra flushed, her annoyance simmering in her baby blue eyes. She caught Goten's gaze between her look at Trunks, and she turned her nose up from him, twisting toward the house. "There isn't anything else," she offered spitefully.

The sliding door opened and shut quietly behind her, Goten's pained, gaping face reflected as he watched her retreat into the depths of the home.

**}{**

A hand reached out, wrapping around her forearm. Bra squealed sharply in surprise as Goten dragged her into her mother's laboratory wing, planting her against the wall.

Upon noticing her captor, Bra shrank back and shot a quick look down the hall to the nearest of the labs. "Are you absolutely insane? What are—"

"Okay, Bra. What's going on, here?" Goten ground out, his grip lessening on her as she tried to wrench her arm from him. "Were you serious this morning? Really?"

"Are you kidding?" She stared at him with incredulity, her mouth half-open. "Why would I lie about telling my parents…?"

"Not that," he dropped his voice, a noise toward the labs catching his attention briefly. When he looked back down at her, Goten noticed her confusion and he sighed heavily in his irritation. "The … other thing. The _mean _thing," he bit out.

Bra rolled her eyes, letting the back of her head collide with the wall. "…Seriously? _I'm_ the mean one? What do you want me to say, Goten?" She sounded almost exhausted with him now, her lids dropping almost to emphasize this. "You're like a bad Katy Perry song, and I'm kind of getting sick of it." When Goten tilted his head in misunderstanding, Bra groaned and she started to sidestep from him, but he shifted again to block her. "C'mon, don't act like you don't know what I'm getting on about."

"Bra…" Goten began on a sigh, but he was cut short by her palm, perpendicular, in his face.

"Don't. Start," she enunciated both words, each highlighted with lifts of her eyebrows. A certain look was tipped down the length of the hallway, and she glanced back upon Goten. "Especially not here," her voice found itself in a whisper again.

Goten was wrought with guilt and annoyance. The solemn way with which she was speaking did not bode well with him, and neither did her previous pop culture reference. "It's been really difficult, Bra—"

"Yeah, you're telling me," she griped, her nose bunching up in disdain. "Try on my fashionable shoes sometime, see how they feel." With a sigh, Bra took on a lazier stance, her weight shifting against the wall behind her. "Goten, you just get to climb up on your High Moral Horse when we're … close," she flickered her gaze up from his chest to his eyes, then back down again. She felt small, suddenly, stuck in this place between him, the wall, and these feelings. "And I don't get it. It's dumb," Bra pouted now, despite her best efforts to keep her lip stiff. "I mean, I know you like me. Obviously," she pointed out with a gesture between them, and the empty hall into which he had pulled her.

He wasn't prepared for the hopeful, questioning look she settled on him then. Not when her voice had sounded so sure. His heart yanked out toward her as he watched her, an explanation locked somewhere in his throat. "I don't want to mess things up, for either of us, y'know?" he offered softly, catching those teal eyes. "And you're different—"

"How?" Bra pressed, intent on his shadowed gaze.

"You're not like … any girl I can just meet at a club, throw out a line," Goten rolled his eyes at his own words, feeling shamed by his honesty. "And you're not like that. You … y'know, you're important. You matter."

The stillness lay between them for several long, uneasy moments. Finally, Bra found her words first. "Then if I'm so important, how come I get the brush off?"

_God she could be trying_, he grumbled to himself, hating the wash of guilt that chilled him from the inside out. The way she squirmed, keeping her eyes suddenly on the ground. It wasn't fair that she could make him feel so bad. "I haven't been giving you the brush off," his arms wound across his broad chest. "Why do you have to misconstrue everything?"

"I'm not misconstruing!" Bra's voice hit a higher pitch, and Goten motioned for her to quiet. "…Well, I'm not," she growled defensively. "You tell me you can't be with me in that way, and then you go and accept my proposition to train me, then when something starts to happen between us, you get all … spastic!" To illustrate, she gestured wildly with her hands about her head.

"Okay," Goten began, irritation renewed as he leant closer to her. "First of all, you tricked me with that training shit." He watched her face work its way into a cheeky upturn away from him, her angry eyes focused down the hallway. Gently, he reached up, forefinger and thumb curling around her jaw as he turned her head to face him again. "Second," his voice was calmer now, "….God, I shouldn't even—"

"Then why are you?" Bra piped up softly, sapphire eyes locked on target.

He hesitated. Thinking back, he couldn't let what she had said get out of his brain. Even Trunks noticed that his game was off after she had left, and both decided to retire for a bit, and he set out to find her. Her hateful comments spurned him, as they were meant to, and yet despite all his self-loathing and his greatest efforts to keep away from the girl … he just couldn't. Part of him wondered when he had gotten consumed with thoughts of her.

She was the flame, and he was the moth – inexplicably drawn to her, captivated by her essence and hypnotized by her beauty.

Lips descended without warning onto her open mouth, and Bra startled at the unexpected intrusion. Goten carefully leaned in to her, his hand reaching for a fistful of silky blue, while Bra tentatively slid her tiny hand down the length of his side.

In the back of his mind, he thought of a _'High Voltage'_ warning.

Drawing back, Goten chuckled close to her mouth, "You need a sign."

With a smirk, Bra bumped her nose against his and a glare flickered over her visage. "Yeah, and you need to make up your mind, buddy," she chided in a hush, her hands playing with the fabric of his shirt. A bit of petulance slipped under her words as she ducked her gaze away from him, "I mean … what are you, scared?"

"Well, _yeah_," Goten laughed now, bringing her wondering attention back to his face. His amusement contagious, Bra couldn't fight the grin that tapered at the edges of her mouth.

A tiny pinprick suddenly throbbed in her temple, and both she and Goten whipped their heads around to find the diminutive, bulky figure of Vegeta loitering at the end of the hall – watching them. Bra went rigid, her hands falling away from Goten immediately, as Goten felt his face growing red hot with terror, surprise, and mortification.

"Smart boy," Vegeta snarled, and both watched as his fists clenched and sizzled with his unrestrained fury.

"Daddy…" the affectionate term fell jaggedly out of Bra's mouth, her voice wavering as she slipped out from between Goten and the wall. "Let's not—"

"You." Vegeta barked at his child, bringing her to freeze mid-movement and Goten winced to himself. "Get to your room. Now."

"Okay, no," Bra shot back defiantly as her hands found their home at her hips.

The act of rebellion caused a spark to flitter across Vegeta's closed fist, and he slowly began to close the distance between the two. "Your father deserves more respect than that, girl," his tone sounded grave, and Bra faltered a bit in her resolve. "You lied to me."

Bra fought the urge to apologize, a glance offered out of the corner of her eye to ensure Goten was still in one piece. "Not exactly," she chose a delightful pitch, one used in hopes to sway her father. "I mean, you didn't really _ask_—"

"Quiet," Vegeta commanded sans cruelty, though Bra stuttered nevertheless under such an order. "This won't work like that, so don't try it." He rounded now upon Goten, who suddenly felt the gripping battle between fight or flight taking over his senses. "And you…" Vegeta's voice trailed off as his face took root in something resembling disgust. "You have the audacity to come into _my_ home and compromise my child?"

"I'm not a—" Bra's heated argument had barely begun, before her father sent her a furious look. At once, she quieted.

"What do you have to say, boy?" Vegeta asked of Goten, words enriched with the gravity of an executioner asking for last words. "Surely you must feel shame at your actions," he continued now in an effort to pick Goten apart. "Surely you knew what consequences would await you on the other side." The threat of violence did not frighten Goten so much as the wave of self-consciousness and guilt that crashed over him. He avoided looking at Bra, who – caught between the two – seemed to be shaking.

"But I forget your family's persistence," Vegeta growled, retrieving Goten's undivided attention once more. "Their penchant stepping out of line, always troubling. And here, you've obviously inherited Kakarotto's magnificent lack of foresight and have unwittingly chosen your own demise."

Bra took a breath, catching Goten's knee-jerk reaction to step closer, coming with the mention of his father. "Daddy," she chastised. "You're not being fair!"

In regards to his child's reprimand, Vegeta mock-spat, sneering at her. "This isn't about fairness. This is about responsibility and honor, of which this whelp has no concept," he snarled ferociously, advancing on Goten despite Bra giving her best effort to act as an obstruction. He glowered at his daughter, a silent instruction to move, but she refrained.

The distraction allowed for Goten to get his bearings back. "Well, if that's the case," he began, as good-naturedly as possible, "then shouldn't you _honor _your daughter's wishes, as it's your_ responsibility_ as her father?" He knew he was baiting the Saiyajin Prince, a stick in the wasp's nest. Vegeta wasn't altogether inaccurate; Goten had definitely inherited his father's poor sense of judgment.

"Excuse me?" Vegeta's eyes widened in the wake of Goten's boldness, and his fists balled tighter. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught his daughter standing with her palms up, pleading, and the surge of malice toward the Son boy fettered out somewhat. Another quick step and Vegeta was nearly nose-to-nose with him. Vegeta didn't even seem to be straining to match his height – to Goten, he strangely grew twice his size and, for a moment, Goten felt as though he was six years old again. "You're not fit to kiss the dirt from off the bottom of her boots, boy," he cruelly taunted, his mouth curving smugly as he watched the contortions of Goten's features.

However, the blow to his pride didn't last long. Goten looked down at Bra, the aquamarine girl absolutely astonished and offended by her father's nerve, and he came to a realization. It was quick, the lightening chasing up his spine as the magnitude of his insight hit him.

Vegeta knew about them. What was there to hide, what more reason was there to pretend? And with that single understanding, Goten found that the fear and trepidation had flooded from his body, and he was left grinning almost childishly down at the older Saiyajin.

"And what's so funny?" Vegeta growled, none too pleased with the suddenly playful expression on Goten's face.

"No, nothing," Goten began to chuckle, and Bra caught something distinctively sinister under his laughter. "It's just, it's funny you say that, 'cause…" He stole a look at the Briefs heiress, watched the wonder and curiosity plaguing her pretty features. He smirked, and turned back to Vegeta with a half-hearted shrug. "Bra never seemed to mind _where_ I kissed her."

Something powerful connected against Goten's abdomen, and he jerked forward, doubling over from the pain that accompanied Vegeta's iron fist. He coughed, the air expelling all at once from his lungs as his vision clouded. Goten could make out Bra's squawk of surprise, before another blow was delivered to his right cheek. The collision sent him toppling backward on to the floor, and it was met with Bra's keening wails.

"What the hell are you doing!?" Goten felt Trunks' ki flare as he approached the scene quickly, and he wobbily lifted himself up by his elbows. His friend's hands pushed his back into an upright position, and he wasn't sure whether relief or shame was what made his chest compounded.

When his eyesight returned, he saw Vegeta standing just across from him, arms tightly folded, stance dominant and unyielding, as Bra stared in pity down at the fallen Son. "Your dad's still got it, Trunks," Goten attempted to snigger, but his insides stung like fire and he grimaced in pain. "Classy as ever, Vegeta."

A threatening stride was begun, but Vegeta paused at his daughter's forefinger hooking into the opening of his glove. "Keep running your mouth, boy. I'll make that trip to the front door quicker for you." The Saiyajin scanned his son's defensive pose, smirking at the disbelief written across his face. "Don't look at me like that, Trunks. He earned it."

Goten accepted Trunks' assistance as he rose to stand once again. Ignoring the questioning stare from his compadre, he threw a sloppy grin toward Bra across from him. "Every bit," he teased, enjoying the blush that suddenly sprung up on the young girl's cheeks. He shifted away from Trunks with a groan, and he patted the man brusquely on the shoulder. "I'm heading out, man. Call me on your next day off, yeah?"

"But, dude—" Trunks spluttered, stupefied by the bruise growing on the side of Goten's face. "What's going on?"

However, Goten paid him no heed, flashing a farewell salute to the father-daughter duo, before he turned to limp his way out of the hallways of the Briefs home.

As Vegeta turned away from her side, he failed to offer his child recognition, and kept on his way down the hall from the scene. Bra concentrated on Goten's retreating form evacuating as her heart settled painfully, having been aflutter throughout the duration of the confrontation. She still couldn't find the room to breathe, despite its conclusion. She remembered Goten's reasoning for keeping his pursuit of her at bay, and his 'reward' for caving in made her head throb. The familiar sting of tears began to prick at the corners of her eyes, and Bra ducked her head in complete ignominy.


	15. Chapter 15: Wish You've Gone!

**Author's Note: **It's been a minute since an update, I know, I know! Full-time schedule and a little bit of writer's block were kicking my ass for a while there. ANYHOO, here's the latest installment. I hope y'all enjoy, and pleaaaase keep reviewing! I 'd like to take the time to thank consistent reviewers **Loregar**, **pen name is**, **SonChan**, and **Rainbow's End**. Thanks for your feedback, guys.

And that goes for anyone else who keeps coming back for more! :D It's much appreciated it.

**These Daydreams, Okay!**

_Chapter 15: Wish You've Gone!_

_Could life possibly get any worse?_ Bra thought glumly to herself as she stared vacantly out her bedroom window. Since the events two days prior, she had barely removed herself from her room. The only place she was safe from the prying, glaring, worrisome eyes of her family.

Not to mention that her heart felt so swollen with guilt that she thought it may burst. In her head, Goten taking shots from her father ran on constant rotation, and she tried to busy herself imagining all the ways it could've been different.

A tiny rapping noise sounded from her door, and Bra sighed heavily, readying herself for the inevitable.

"Bra?" Her mother's voice queried into the first square of her bedroom, initially unaware of her daughter's presence in the second room. When she came around the corner into Bra's personal lounge, Bulma found her daughter curled up tight on the wrap-around sofa, her blue gaze fixated on the smattering of rain droplets on the massive window pane. Bra's suite held possibly the most spectacular view of their grounds - which were drenched by the summer downpour today. "So, this is where you've been hiding."

Bra fought down the wisp of a smile that passed over her lips. "No, I've been hiding in my shame," she corrected her mother, her knees drawn tighter toward her chest. "This is just an illusion."

Sympathetically, Bulma drew out an 'aww' and proceeded closer to her child. Bra unconsciously began to unfold herself, the waves of her mother's concern washing away some of the pain that covered her insides. There was little reason to protect herself against her mother; once Bulma had discovered what had transpired, the whole house rippled in her outrage.

When she felt Bulma's hand at her back, Bra turned from the window to face her mother with a half-hearted smile. "I'm okay, seriously, mom," she offered as convincingly as she could. Which would be not very, considering her mother's skeptical once-over.

"Impossible," Bulma brushed off her cover quickly, her hand raking through her daughter's thick blue locks. "If I'm not okay over this, then you surely can't be. But, I'm not going to nag you," she spoke quickly over whatever Bra was beginning to say, her eyebrows arched high. "However, we're having a few guests over for dinner tonight, so I do expect you to be showered and dressed, sans gloominess, in about twenty minutes."

"Moooom…." The wail sailed out of her lungs as Bra leaned back against her mother, eyes once more settled on the window – this time in deep disdain, as opposed to deep thought. "I'm not prepared to act socially. Don't do this to me."

She grimaced as Bulma pressed her cheek against the top of her head. Bra absolutely despised it when her mother got mushy-sweet with her as a means of cheering her up. It was rarely amusing, always over-the-top. "I do this out of pure love for you, you know."

Bra snorted and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, if you really loved me, you'd let me wallow in peace." In a matter of seconds, she leapt away from her mother, yelping in pain. Gingerly, Bra covered a small portion of her back with both of her hands. "What the hell did you pinch me for?!"

"Now, you listen here," Bulma started in toward her daughter, index finger raised and drawn. "What happened is a setback-" (_"A setback!?" Bra cried in incredulity_.) "-but you cannot change it. There's no use crying over it now." Without further ado, Bulma rose from the couch, a scornful look flashed her child's way. "I will allow you twenty minutes to wallow and get pretty for people, but I expect you down there for dinner."

There was no use in arguing with her. Bra knew better than to quarrel with her mother when she found herself set in something. "Fine," her agreement came on an exasperated exhale, her gaze diverted from her mother. "But I won't talk to daddy."

"Because that'll be unexpected," Bulma half-laughed at her daughter's petulance. "Don't worry about your father. You concentrate on getting rid of your Rudolph nose and finding your smile, understood?"

Bra's reply was short and sweet – her tongue quickly jutted out of her mouth toward her mother as her gaze remained on her hazy reflection in the window.

**}{**

So, she took an extra ten minutes to swim in her sorrows. Sue her.

Once her heels hit the landing, Bra took a moment to shrug off the foreignness her home suddenly exuded. It had been a while since she had ever sequestered herself in such a way. Time had seemed to pass around her in the scant two days she spent separated from her family.

Sounds from the kitchen drew her farther from the stairwell, the noises and voices familiar to her ears, yet she couldn't place them. It wasn't until now that she considered who her mother had possibly invited over. Usually, it was business that brought guests, as Bulma rarely liked to play hostess and Vegeta rarely liked company.

The archway of the kitchen grew as Bra stepped nearer, and she froze at once as loud laughter echoed from the kitchen proper. Pan moved into view first, plopping down at the dinner table, and the second member of the Son family followed suit. His spiky hair, the way the muscles of his back moved under his shirt; Bra could feel her knees giving out in surprise.

"Hey, Bra-chan," Pan greeted as she eyeballed her friend slyly, a sneaky grin winding into place over her mouth. "Didn't know if you were going to come down tonight!"

Yet her words barely made it through Bra's ears. When Goten turned around, with his goofy grin plastered across his face and a large, dark mark under his eye, a dull humming started in her head. All at once, she envisioned her father's swinging fists and Bra figured her face must've started to do something without her realizing it – both of the Sons were looking at her, perplexed.

"What's so funny?" Pan wondered with a bit of a chuckle, an uneasy glance thrown to her uncle, who seemed to be in on the joke, whatever it was.

Bra tried to force her grin back down, it was completely inappropriate – but she couldn't help herself. At sight of Goten's widening smile, she broke into giggles and doubled over, her long hair shielding her face. "I just … didn't expect you," she answered in between hiccups of laughter. "I'm—I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm—" Bra's words dissolved into her giggles as she straightened up and dabbed her thumb under her eyes, wiping away the tiny tears that had leaked out. "Sorry, sorry. I didn't know you guys were my mom's 'dinner guests.'"

"Kind of unexpected, yeah," Goten shrugged, seemingly focused on every movement by the azure girl. Bra flushed bright pink under his attention, and she caught Pan's annoyed eyeroll in her peripheral. As though remembering they were not the only two present, Goten swiveled to better notice his niece – only to see her rise from the table.

"Weeeell, I'mma go see what Miss Bulma and grandma are up to," Pan announced to the duo, her hand gesturing toward the backyard. "Y'all need anything, do it—err, _get it_ yourselves," she stuttered over her ill-chosen words, a vibrant blush taking over her cheeks as she made haste for the sliding doors.

Silence pervaded over the room in the wake of Pan's exit. Wordlessly, Goten motioned for Bra to join him at the table, and she did as such, dropping down into the chair diagonal from him. Leaning forward, she folded her hands slowly over the table top, her palms working the tablecloth down smoothly. "You know," her voice began abruptly, but softly, "I didn't think I was going to see you again. That's … it makes me kind of feel silly, now."

He watched her embarrassment play out over her face, in the tint of her cheeks and the tips of her ears. "That's because you're a drama queen," he chided her, enjoying the harsh, hurtful gasp she sucked in and the horrid look she shot him. She caught on quick that he was teasing, and her foot lashed out at his shin from under the table. "C'mon, Bra. It's not that bad."

"But look at your face," she cooed suddenly as she moved toward him, her hand cupping around his cheek. Her fingers danced around the dark purple mark that took up most of the space underneath his eye, and he winced at her grazing touch. "Why did you antagonize him like that?"

Goten gently rested his hand against her waist, in a motion to usher her back just slightly. "I dunno," he admitted with a shrug. "I guess I thought … y'know, 'what do I care?' I mean, he found out about us anyway. If this," he pointed to his bruised cheek, then his ribs, "is all I have to pay for fraternizing with the almighty Saiyajin no Ouji's daughter?" Goten blew air out in a 'pfft' and waved Bra off. "Believe me, you're dad's taken better shots at me when I was a kid."

"I think he's lost his edge," Bra considered half-jokingly as she flicked her gaze toward the living room. Thinking of her father, she recognized a new-found annoyance growing in the pit of her stomach. "I hate being mad at him," she muttered after a few seconds, her voice low in her throat and her eyes focused on nothing in particular. And truly, she did. Bra seldom ever felt anything but unwavering affection and admiration for her father. But then again, it wasn't often she saw the side of him she had seen during the confrontation with Goten.

His hand squeezed at her waist, bringing her back to Earth, and she smiled blearily at him. "Sorry, I just… I am so sorry, y'know? For everything that—"

"You don't have to apologize, Bra," Goten assured her, feeling weakened by her sniffles now and the way her gaze was fluttering away. "Nothing's wrong, or bad. You didn't do anything."

She gave a tiny choked noise, before she all but lunged towards his neck for a quick hug. Tenderly, his arms encircled her hips. Like so many hugs in the past, this one lacked the passion that had been built between them during the past few weeks. As Bra withdrew, he gave her a playful pat on the rump, and he smirked at the sharp squeal that she emitted thereafter. She shoved at him before she sat again, her eyebrow rising at him almost challengingly. "I can't believe you actually showed tonight."

"Well, I figure, I have the majority vote over your dad," Goten observed almost conversationally, a heft of his shoulder granted. "Worse comes to worst, I get further acquainted with your dad's fist." With a long sigh, Goten switched his focus toward the sliding glass doors and into the backyard. "Hopefully, we can just … smooth all this out tonight. I'm getting kind of tired of all run-around."

The words struck Bra at once – her heartstrings tugged, the vibrations ripping through her, compelling her to lean closer toward him. "So, does that mean you've…" She hesitated when he turned to look at her, her voice floundering under his darkened gaze. "… You've made up your mind?"

After a moment, Goten gave a small nod, looking back toward the doors to find his mother and Bulma making their way into the home. "Yeah, that's what it means."

As the doors slid open, both of the older women entered with gales of laughter, drawing the rapt attention of both their children. Chi Chi immediately zeroed in on Bra, and the aqua beauty shifted uncomfortably in her place. It was an interested sort of look the woman fixed her with now, and Bra's stomach tossed at a sudden, horrifying thought – and her fear escalated as Chi Chi's pensive stare morphed into an all-too-pleased smile.

"Braaaa-chan, how are you tonight?" Chi Chi cried as she made her way over, her arms coming around Bra in a little-more-than-motherly embrace. Bra did her best to arch up into the hug, to prevent Chi Chi's overzealous efforts from choking her. When the woman removed herself, Bra watched her glance across to Goten, then wink down at her.

Bra blanched. As soon as Chi Chi's back was turned, she jerked her head toward Goten and mouthed viciously, '_YOU TOLD HER?_'

**}{**

The kitchen proved to be neutral grounds that evening. Bra and Goten remained there at the table, engaged in conversation with each other, or whoever passed through the area, be it for food, for a drink, or to check up on them. It was peaceful – Bra hadn't felt this at ease for quite some time now. In particular, when around Goten. And yet, this felt natural as anything else; she wasn't on edge, she wasn't worried. It was, if anything, _easy._

"So, what did your professor say?" Goten queried, seemingly riveted by Bra's tale.

Nonchalantly, Bra shrugged, and she took a swig of her beer. "What could he say? I mean, c'mon. My mother's a genius, my brother's a genius, and my grandfather was a genius. Just because I have a pretty face and killer style does not mean I lack a brain," she reminded him – and the world – with a tip of her bottle.

"But anyway, he asked me to get up, and if I was so smart, I could write the new code without help, and he'd verify it," Bra continued on, only pausing for a quick sip of her drink. "I was like, 'fine, verify all you'd like, but I have some of the world's top scientists and mathematicians on my speed dial, so, y'know, that might be quicker.'"

Goten snorted into his drink, shaking his head at her cheek. "God, your family is mouthy," he half-praised, his eyes raking through her sparkling teal pools.

"Some people say that's a bad thing," Bra sighed, her fingers tracing over the mouth of her bottle. "But, y'know, I think our moxie gives us an advantage over everyone else. What I did may have pissed my teacher off—"

"But it got you noticed," Goten pointed out, and he was rewarded with Bra's spirited grin and a single, quick nod. "Not like it's hard to notice you, though."

Bra blushed slightly under his compliment – and his stare. That familiar flutter of butterflies in her tummy was sparking to life. "I'm … not sure what to do with that, Goten," she admitted with a nervous chuckle, her eyes darting toward the backyard and back again.

"Goten! Yo!"

His attention diverted quickly, and Bra's head fell forward, the curtain of blue tresses concealing her agitation at her brother's arrival.

"Trunks!" Goten crowed boisterously, and he rose at once from his place at the table. As the lavender haired man came into the kitchen, the two of them came together in a masculine, one-armed hug. "Been waiting for you to get home, dude."

"Yeah, late shift," Trunks puffed and rolled his eyes, taking note of his sister after a few seconds. "Bra. You've… surfaced." He shot a suspicious look between Goten and Bra then, his mouth curving into a frown. "I been meaning to ask, what was that the other day, you guys? I mean, dad really laid into you," Trunks pointed out, a finger raised to poke at Goten's swollen, purple cheek.

Goten hissed and recoiled in pain, his face screwed up at the intrusion. "Dude, don't do that. Fucking hurts," he grumbled as he lifted a hand to hover protectively over his wound. "And—"

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Oh, god," Bra groaned, her hands pushing her hair aside to reveal the dismay that settled over her features as Vegeta stepped in from the backyard.

"Vegeta! Matte yo!" Bulma's angry voice thundered in just a few scant paces from behind her husband, and her hand flew at once to his forearm. Just after her, Chi Chi scuttled in, the younger woman inadvertently bumping into Bulma from behind. "You don't need to come storming in here, let's go back outside, you can even—"

"Quiet," Vegeta pulled his arm effortlessly from his wife's grasp, causing Bulma to jerk forward a few uncertain steps. "He's not staying here," he turned now to face Goten with a sneer, and Vegeta tilted his chin up at him. "Get lost."

"Don't be silly, Vegeta," Bulma's laugh almost sounded genuine, though there was a glint in her steely blue eyes that told of something far more serious. "Goten's staying. I invited him—"

"You what?"

"—So he's staying, like the rest of his family," the woman continued unperturbed by her husband's infuriated shock.

Cautiously, Bra rose from her place at the table, and unfortunately, her father's attention was attracted by her movement. "Daddy, can't you just be civilized for once?" She snapped, startled by her own exasperated tone.

Vegeta narrowed his eyes at his child, as though seeking a part of her out, before he sneered and looked back upon Goten with disgust. "I liked it better when you were stowed up in your room."

A sharp pang tore through Bra's heart at his callousness, and at the empty glare he barely acknowledged her with. Certainly, she had been angry with him – but nothing had prepared her for such cold treatment. _And over something so petty? _She was torn between indignation and melancholy at her father's distance due to the situation; in all her daydreaming over the given scenario, she had never imagined…

"Why are we ganging up on Goten?" Trunks' wary, albeit curious, query abruptly sprouted up amid the anxious cluster. He had his hand raised over his head, as though he was a schoolboy patiently waiting for the teacher to call on him.

All eyes but Vegeta's faltered and skirted away from the man. "Don't be stupid, boy," his father snapped, his attention rocketing back to Goten. "You. You're still here, and this is a problem. I will not tell you again."

Goten took note of the sudden twisting of Vegeta's fingers, and he watched them curl up into a tight ball. If it were to come to blows again, Goten definitely would not be caught off guard again…

"You're damn right you won't," Bulma groused as she wiggled her way in between Vegeta and his view of Goten. "I've already told you, he's staying, Vegeta. Just let it go, would you?" Her final words fell out almost pleadingly, her somber marine eyes searching her husband's face imploringly.

And for a moment, it seemed as though Vegeta weighed the option of yielding. Yet a second look at his child and the buffoon who towered behind her caused his resolve to solidify. Bulma recognized the look on his face – that unwavering, unfaltering glower. She sighed and folded her arms, mimicking his current stance. "Fine then," she relented, a sidelong look thrown toward Goten and her two children. "I'm sure that you are more than capable of fending for yourself, ne?"

Her question, however, was directed with a glare toward Vegeta. He started at her suggestion, his mouth dropping ever so slightly agape. Yet he spoke no words – rather, after a second of consideration of his spouse, Vegeta twisted away from the group and padded back out the sliding doors, purposely brushing harshly into Pan as he passed her while crossing the yard.

As the younger ebony haired girl peeked into the kitchen of Capsule Corp, she discovered the mixed families quieted, and the home proved to be sobering in its silence.

"What did I miss?" Pan asked awkwardly of the assembled group, earning a few choice looks from members of the two different clans.

"Not a bad question," Trunks echoed after her, his scrutinizing stare shifting between his best friend and sibling. Both retreated under his inspection, neither Goten nor Bra quite meeting his prying eyes. "What is this all about? Why doesn't dad want you here, Goten?"

Addressed directly, Goten went rigid, a sudden illness taking him over. He had not considered the likelihood of having to convey the situation to Trunks. And now he was faced with it, unprepared and scared – like standing naked in front of class.

Bulma sighed heavily and loudly; her way of diverting attention. She lifted a hand to try and stifle her son's inquiries. "Trunks, not now. We can talk about this—"

"No, I want to know now," Trunks growled over his mother's quieter tones. He swallowed a lump of sudden rage, eyes darting between the two beside him. "Are you—are you two kidding me?" He seemed to trip over his words, as though unsettled by even having to speak them.

However, he needed no reply, from neither Bra nor Goten. The guilt had settled into their features, and Trunks found himself repulsed by their mutual, silent admissions.

He groaned his disgust aloud, a hand roving through his thick lilac hair. "Yeah, fuck this," his words were bit out nastily, furiously. In a swift, singular motion, he pivoted and stormed into the opposite room – with Goten hot on his heels.

Overwhelmed with a sudden exhaustion, Bra watched hopelessly after the two men, her body slowly sinking into her chair at the table. The stillness filtered into the room as the remaining women found themselves quieted by the unfolding events of the evening. Three sets of eyes skipped over Bra's restless, discontented form – all of them sympathetic, all of them wondering.

"For what it's worth," Chi Chi began, startling the small collection of women, "_I_ don't have any problems with you, Bra-chan."


	16. Chapter 16: Love!

**Author's Note: **Got a full work week ahead of me, so I decided to churn out this chapter before my soul gets stolen for the week! I'm trying to think of a project to start following this fic, as I feel its conclusion is nigh. Something to mull over while enduring marathon shifts at Walgreens. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter, it's one of my favorites that I've written yet!

As always, please read and review! :D I always appreciate your feedback!

**These Daydreams, Okay!**

_Chapter 16: Love!_

The grass was damp with evening dew beneath her bare feet. Bra wasn't sure how long she'd been standing in the yard, staring up at her father's gravity simulator. From behind her, she heard her mother call her name.

"Give him time, sweetie," Bulma told her, voice weary. "Just come inside, dinner's almost set."

But Bra gave little notice to her mother's plea. In defeat, Bulma sighed and slowly slid the backdoor closed, leaving her child standing alone in their yard – her sights set on the unattainable, determination rife in her narrowed brow and resolute stare.

**}{**

"Dude, please," Goten all but begged of the locked door, his closed fist resting just over the handle. "We need to talk, man. C'mon."

Silence on the other side. Goten exhaled slowly, the hand that had been at the door rising to draw through his black spikes. He had been arguing with Trunks' bedroom door for at least fifteen minutes, trying every which way to persuade his friend to open up and settle this miscommunication.

He snorted to himself. _Miscommunication? More like lack thereof._

Suddenly, the door swung open, revealing the red-faced, infuriated Briefs heir. Goten's mouth fell open at the abruptness, completely startled by his friend's dirty glare. "Don't you think the talking part should've come before you fucked around with my sister?" Trunks spat viciously.

While he was right, the word choice struck Goten like a fist to the gut. "Whoa, slow it, dude," Goten put his palms up, pushing them toward Trunks. "You don't even know the situation—"

"I don't want to fucking know," Trunks grunted, his arms folding across his chest protectively. Somehow, it scared Goten, how similar the members of this clan could appear. The fury flickered from Trunks' face briefly, replaced for a short two seconds with something akin to betrayal. "That's my sister, Goten."

"Yeaaah, and do you think I suffered amnesia and, what? Forgot that?" Goten bit out through his clenched teeth. Truly, he was getting sick of the drama that had plagued his world lately._ The_ _price to pay for pursuing the prohibited_, he considered with frustration. "Of course I know she's you're sister. Why the hell do you think I haven't told you?"

Trunks rolled his eyes and supported his weight against the door frame. His gaze narrowed imperceptibly. "That's not the defense I'd go with, y'know."

It was a groan that tore from Goten then as he turned away from the other man. "Okay, look," he tried a new approach, palms open toward Trunks in supplication. "What do you want me to say? What do you want to know, man?"

Eyeballing his friend suspiciously, Trunks chewed on his offer with a disgusted twist of his mouth. He wasn't sure there's much he wanted to know – knowing that there was anything, no matter how tame or otherwise, was trouble enough for his brain. "How long?" He settled, the answer to this query would decide the next.

Initially, Goten felt relief at this question. However, after his brain processed it, the relief faded fast. He really wasn't sure when he was supposed to put a timestamp on he and Bra's pseudo-… whatever the hell they had. After a moment, he simply shrugged, picking the pool incident as the beginning of his troubles with the Briefs heiress. "About a month," he supplied, knowing that Trunks didn't appreciate the uncertainty of his response. "It's … hard to say."

"How the hell is it hard to say?" Trunks growled, holding himself upright again.

"We haven't really … made anything specific," Goten tried to explain and even he flinched at the awkwardness of his voice. "Me and Bra haven't had anything solid or definite, really. Anytime we got close, I kind of … chickened out." He shouldn't have been embarrassed – his caution might actually be what saved his life in this situation.

While Goten kept his gaze diverted, he could feel Trunks' eyes inspecting him for sincerity. "Because of me and dad?"

Goten merely shrugged. "A lot of reasons. She'd try to convince me that it wasn't that bad," he lifted a quick glance up at Trunks' face in time to see the man grimace in repulsion. "And believe me, I'd consider it. But then I'd pussy out at the last minute." He half-smiled to himself, thinking of the girl and her determination. "Your sister has trouble taking no for an answer, man."

"That's enough," Trunks sighed, one hand held up to stop Goten while the other pinched at the bridge of his nose. "So…" He began on a new breath, cobalt eyes frozen on Goten's worried visage. "Suffice to say, you've been leading my little sister on for about a month," he fought down a smirk as he watched his friend visibly pale, "and only opted to accept responsibility once confronted by everyone's knowledge of the situation. That it?"

"Wha—no—I—" Goten stuttered over himself as his mouth bobbed for the right words to deny Trunks' callous accusations. "Dude, do you really think I'd do that?"

"I've seen what you can do to girls," Trunks leveled in a lower, more serious tone.

"Not the same," Goten found his voice firmer now, and he stepped almost threateningly closer to Trunks. "She's not the same."

Trunks shrugged a shoulder and, not missing a beat, took a step forward to meet Goten. "You're right, she's not." His words held such gravity that Goten thought seriously of stepping away from the lavender haired man. But he held his ground. "That's my sister. Bra can certainly be a bitch, but don't think for a single second that I'd take your side over hers."

It occurred to Goten then: he wanted to know. It was written plainly in Trunks' eyes – he wanted to know what had happened, if anything. But more importantly, he wanted a vow.

Leaning closer, almost nose-to-nose with him, Goten stated as strongly as he could, "I swear to you, Trunks. I have never – and would never - hurt your sister. And I don't say that because of you, and I don't say that because of your dad." To steady himself, Goten took a gentle breath, in an effort to calm his tingling nerves. "I say that because of her."

A minute nearly passed before Trunks had completely chewed, swallowed, and processed Goten's vow. The weight of his sincerity. The genuineness of his eyes. Finally, he conceded, and he offered his hand to Goten. Gladly, the youngest of the Son boys took to the gesture. For finality's sake, Trunks squeezed Goten's hand and raised an eyebrow. "You know that if you do hurt her, you'll be missing a lung, both eyes, and your kidneys, right?"

While Goten dismissed the threat, he silently absorbed it thoroughly. He knew quite well that Vegeta's fists of fury from two days before were merely warnings; what the son and father duo could truly do was not something Goten wanted to ponder deeply on.

Both boys began descent toward the stairwell, the pleasant smells of dinner finally reaching their nostrils. "Aw, man, your mom made ham?" Goten almost moaned in delight, his pace picking up so that he was almost dragging Trunks by the shoulder. "Let's go, I'm absolutely starving!"

**}{**

Delighted laughter rung inside the house, and a smile flitted momentarily across Bra's lips. Goten and Trunks had made up. She could hear their brotherly tones, and it soothed her inner-aching a bit. Yet as her gaze refocused upon the gravity simulator, the corners of her mouth again dipped downward.

Sucking in a breath, Bra dropped her limbs from across her chest, and she proceeded forward. In her mind, she rehearsed the dialogue she had planned for her father once she confronted him.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Vegeta's voice stopped her dead in her tracks. Bra was rooted to the spot, and it took her several moments before she could turn her head to spy her father behind her, leaning against the wall.

"I—looking for you," Bra supplied with a half-shrug. "To talk."

Her father observed her with a tilted head. Onyx eyes shifted sidelong, drawing Bra's attention toward the glass doors where her mother was standing, watching her daughter on the lawn. Bulma's expression was one of concern and curiosity – obviously, she did not see Vegeta there in the shadows as Bra did at that moment.

Wordlessly, Vegeta tilted his chin upward, before he lifted gradually from the ground and into the air. Bra immediately took the hint, her eyes darting away from her mother and up towards her father as she followed suit, kicking off from the Earth to catch up with him.

They settled above the Capsule Corporation compound, the evening breeze blowing well enough higher above the ground. With a blush, Bra pressed her hand down to keep her summer dress from billowing up. Vegeta rolled his eyes at her.

"You had something to say?" Vegeta tersely inquired, and Bra noted with a hint of annoyance that his stance had not changed at all since levitating to the higher altitude.

"Well, really, something I wanted to ask you," Bra corrected herself, and her father growled in his irritation. "So, I misspoke! Gomen ne! Don't be such a brute about it," she chided him with a sneer, her dainty nose turned up at him.

Vegeta marveled at the instantaneous depletion of his frustration at her disdain. This child was as infuriating as her mother. It was a wonder they weren't simply clones of one another times. "You've got your time, girl," he relented with a sour glare. "Make use of it."

She got his point; this time alone was valuable and like sand through the hourglass, it was slipping away fast. "Why?" Bra blurted out, her cheeks reddening under the moonlight. "Why have you been so terrible about the whole thing?" Her question sounded so angry and petulant, even to her own ears. She winced at her father's obviously dwindling patience, opting for a softer, much more entreating tone. "I just want to know why you're so bent up about this … situation."

"You can't even say it?" Her father's question startled her, and Bra ducked her head away from his speculative glower. Vegeta sniffed in derision, her lack of a response enough for him. "Consider that before you come bitching at me."

Bra gaped across to her father as her whole body shook under his point. "You … are so mean," she finally breathed, her manicured blue eyebrows wrinkling at him as her shock began to lessen and give way to aggravation. "What has Goten even done to you?"

"This isn't about that urchin," Vegeta groused, his face already contorting with surfacing rage.

"So it's about Son-ojii, ne?" Bra's voice danced into an aggressive lilt now. "And here we all thought you were pretty much over that grudge—"

She had obviously hit a weak spot, as her father shifted forward just slightly. "It does not concern Kakarotto, either. This is about _you_." His forehead dipped toward her in indication, as the expression on his face darkened by the minute. "This is about how you have not only concealed something of this magnitude from your mother and—"

"Mama knew," Bra interjected, and she immediately wished she hadn't, as her father shot the dome-shaped house a threatening look.

"—and myself," he continued, as though undeterred, "and how you've deigned yourself to be with that pathetic excuse for a man. You disappoint me," Vegeta finished with an once-over of his child and his mouth turned southwards. "I would expect better of my daughter."

It was a bit unbearable for Bra, standing there under his analyzing glare. His inspection felt terribly intrusive, especially considering the magic his words were working on her. Bra's insides writhed with both guilt and fury, as indignation and self-doubt racketed in her brain. She had expected something a little more aggressive from her father, but she was unfortunately rewarded with the surprise of his deprecating words. They cut her to the bone, or so it felt.

"…There's nothing wrong with me. Or Goten," she finally mustered the words and the courage to look at her father with as challenging a stare that she could manage. "You have to know that," she implored him, azure eyes practically brimming with urgency. "He's good, and he's nice! He's strong, and he's brave, these are all things you've known and seen first-hand," she ticked off the redeeming qualities of the boy, feeling almost panicked by her father's unflinching glare. "I mean, god, he's even half-Saiyajin! Doesn't that count for anything with you?!"

Vegeta's upper lip curled and he actually averted his gaze from Bra's lingering eyes and upon the dazzling city stretched out before them. Those aqua pools of desperation were unnerving to him; he never could take her pleading for long before giving in. Since she was a child _… hm._

He pondered on the tense, his brow wriggling inward.

However, Bra's mind had begun to tire of fighting this losing battle. Her brain was whirling to a stop, and if she tried much harder to find the words to convince her father, she'd probably faint from the exertion. "Fine," she sighed, feeling Vegeta's attention settle on her again. "Be that way."

Vegeta immediately noticed her preparing for descent. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going inside," Bra mumbled as her arms wound around her middle. Her baby blues lifted to meet her father's dark eyes, and Vegeta felt his stomach fall out at the intensity of her hurtful glare. "I'm cold."

There was no final word allowed on his part as she dropped down to the lawn once more. Vegeta hovered above their home, his gaze trained on his daughter as she hurried inside. Moments after she disappeared into the interior, another blue-haired woman stepped out into the grass. Bulma craned her head, seeking something out in the sky; when her searching eyes fell upon Vegeta, he could hear her quietly cursing his name and his pride.

**}{**

"Oh, Miss Bulma, that sure was tasty," Pan half-groaned as she rubbed at her tummy, the contented look spread across her face quite similar to the majority around the table. "My mom can't even cook that well!"

"Well, don't think it was all me," Bulma laughed with a wave of her napkin. "I had some help, believe me."

"As in, you called the cooks for reinforcement?" Trunks teased his mother, earning a swat from her napkin. "Just trying to be truthful, mom!"

Laughter echoed around the table, and Goten's died quickly into a chuckle as his gaze traced the faces surrounding him until he fell upon Bra. She had been silent throughout most of dinner, only interacting with small smiles and little quips in between the conversation. Otherwise, she seemed preoccupied and desolate. It bothered him to see her without her usual shine; it reminded him of when Pan had returned home, and he had seen her early that morning at the breakfast counter.

Empty and sad.

Consumed with his worry, Goten took a moment to notice her staring right back at him. When he came to and found her gaze, his features softened. Bra seemed to be comforted, however little, by his acknowledgement and she flashed him a minute grin. Reassurance.

"Well, we ready to call it a day, y'all?" Chi Chi asked of her granddaughter and son, exchanging an expectant look between them.

"Lemme grab a smoke first, okaasan," Goten told his mother as he rose from the table, his hand already digging through his back pocket to retrieve his pack and lighter. Curiously, he lifted the items toward Trunks, but the lavender haired man shook his head in decline of his invitation.

**}{**

"That fucking pool," Goten grouched to the night air as smoke trailed from his mouth. He stared long and hard at the quiet surface of the water, replaying that fateful day and recounting the incidents that would follow it.

The door opened and shut behind him, and he smiled as he caught a flutter of marine out of the corner of his eye. "It didn't do anything to you," Bra defended the cerulean, man-made pond. Her hand rose to his chest's level, open and palm-up.

With a snicker, he offered his freshly lit cigarette, and she gladly accepted his hand-out. Goten watched her chest as she inhaled, and slowly his eyes drifted up to her face. Her eyes were closed as she savored the effects of the toxic stick, and a nag of guilt pulled in the back of his head suddenly. "You know I'm sorry, right?" Goten asked of her, without really meaning for the words to come out.

Her serene expression melted into momentary confusion, before she apparently understood and glanced away from him. "Don't apologize," she sighed and stared into the burning tip of the stick between her fingers. "You were just trying to do what was right." She took another drag, a smirk curling around her mouth following her exhalation. Deviously, she peeked at him. "Plus, it was kind of a turn-on, having to wrangle you."

"I wouldn't say you _wrangled_ me…" Goten's voice trailed off as she turned to look fully upon him, her blue eyes half-lidded. Clearing his throat, he ventured hastily, "That is, so much as hog-tied?"

His saving face instantly cheered her, and Goten embraced the wave of relief that warmed him at sight of her smile. He was at a loss when she turned away again, her eyes focused somewhere up above them on the starlit sky. "There will be plenty of time for tying you up later," she then off-handedly replied, another puff of smoke filtered into the air as she grinned lasciviously at him and offered his half-smoked cigarette back to him. "Don't you worry about that, Goten-kun."

Feigning shock, Goten pitched the remaining cigarette stub into the yard. "You are _bad_!" He gasped, arms speedily reaching out to snatch her spinning, squealing form up before she could retreat into the home. "Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?" He teased as his splayed hands tickled the firm front of her stomach.

As he stumbled back into the looming shadows of the home, away from the brightly lit windows of the kitchen, Bra managed to squirm her way around in his arms to face him. "Certainly not," she replied snobbishly, before her mouth covered his. The kiss was brief – fleeting, if anything – and lasted a mere three seconds before Bra withdrew. Her breath feathered over his face as she asked him quietly, "Why would I be kissing my mother, when I could be kissing you?"

"You make good points," Goten took a second to discover a proper response, as he was held so in thrall by her shining azure eyes. "I can't think of a reason. That was just silly of me."

She giggled and lifted her fingertips to the tiny hairs that grew at his neck, leading into his thick black mane. Silently, they stood together in the yard under the night sky, absorbing and taking in one another and the predicament they had found themselves in. Hopefulness and trepidation began to meld together upon Bra's face, and she squinted up at him with a sudden cant of her head. "So, about that mind-making-up thing. How did that work out for you?"

Her query was so aloof, Goten should've been apprehensive of the casual lilt to her voice. But somehow, he wasn't, and he offered a plain shrug in response. "I've already dug the grave, shouldn't I lie in it?"

"I think you mean bed," Bra corrected his quote, effectively obliterating the mood, and she squealed sprightly when he hefted her up off her feet. When he replanted her, she moved in closer, her tiny hands clutching at the front of his t-shirt. This time, when she looked up at him, that hopeful girlishness that had so pained him before had returned. "So … really? You mean it?"

He was captivated by the innocuousness of her entire being. It occurred to him that, even given the circumstances, second thoughts were not optional. Not when she was looking at him like that. And to be truthful, he wasn't all that big on options, anyway. With a grin, Goten tilted his head down and pecked her forehead tenderly. "Sou desu ne." His affirmative spread an even wider, beaming grin across Bra's features, her mouth stretching to reveal her pearly little teeth. "I mean, why else would I be kissing you in front of your dad?"

As his eyebrows arched pointedly up toward his hairline, Bra giggled low in her throat, a nefarious sound that destroyed the vision of harmlessness she had captured so perfectly moments before. "And you say _I'm _bad," she murmured against his cheek, her nose brushing at the creases that followed his grin.


	17. Epilogue: Life!

**Author's Note: **My story is over! I'm really kind of sad, but what can you do? I'll have to think of something new to write! I want to thank you all for reading, and for those of you who reviewed, thank you several times over. I appreciate all the feedback and all the support on my first long fanfic. This chapter's just an epilogue of sorts, the payoff of the story being some sexy Bra/Goten - no lemon, 'cause I'm totally a chicken and don't think I could write one. ;) We'll see, you never know what the future holds.

Anyway, enjoy! Thanks again for reading!! I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

**These Daydreams, Okay!**

_Epilogue: Life!_

Summer had long since given way to autumn, the crisp wind billowing into the cities as the final tendrils of summer's heat were whisked away. Branches shook, their final brown and golden hued leaves fluttering in the air and littering much of the ground. Winter's chill was just around the corner, ebbing gradually into every gust of wind that nature breathed.

As Bra crunched across the parking lot, not even the cold beginning to permeate the air could penetrate her. For the first time in a long while, her life was filled with warmth and nothing but, and she was content.

Everything was going right – for the most part. In fact, not even a month ago, her mother had officially named her as the secondary successor to the Capsule Corporation dynasty, and the newly erected third Capsule Corp. tower had been named hers. She would rule the corporation alongside her mother and brother, continuing to carry out her family's legacy.

Striding into the lobby, she pushed her sunglasses high atop her head, as she was instantaneously inundated with queries and files – all of which she met with a serene smile and wave of her hand, nods of yes, stern looks. Briskly, she made a path through the crowd, directly toward the opening elevator. The excited, urgent mob all rallied for her attention, but she merely ticked her shades down over her bright blue eyes.

**}{**

"_Something's weird with you," he noted suspiciously, dark eyes narrowing in on her while his fingers dropped a black chip into the yellow slot. The little bundle of aquamarine across from him had been entirely too giddy the last few days. He had a hunch she was hiding something big, and Goten was not a fan of his girlfriends keeping secrets._

_But Bra shook her head, that placid smile forever stretched across her tiny pink mouth, as she chose to concentrate on the game at hand. Determined, Goten zoned in, focusing on the dimples of her cheeks and the swell of her lower lip. He found that he was doing that a lot lately; memorizing details, great and small, of her face. When she caught him staring, Bra blushed and glanced back down, and he merely grinned. That was happening a lot lately, too._

"_C'mon, tell me," he urged her, a hand reaching over to tickle and squeeze at her stomach. Bra erupted into ferocious giggles at his sporadic poking of her middle accompanied by his childish pleading, and her hand came down quickly to swipe his offending appendage away. "I can keep secrets too, y'know," he pouted at her denial of his request, trying his best to look stung by her apparent distrust._

"_It's not a secret," she hissed, though her heavy glances from side to side completely undermined her words. "It's just … I don't want to get my hopes up is all."_

_Now it was starting to sound juicy. Goten tugged at the leg of her jeans, earning another swat. "Aw, now you're just begging me to bug you, Bra," he grumbled as she diverted her gaze, and he went so far as to lean in closer to try and catch her gaze. "What's for hoping?"_

_A deep breath drew in, and Bra closed her eyes away from his prying gaze. "You can't tell," she warned him, one big blue eye popping open to spy him watching her raptly. _

"_Ah, but you said it wasn't a secret," he teased, though he instantly silenced himself under her glare. "You know I won't, if you don't want me to," Goten amended sincerely, a gentle hand raised to her shoulder to push a wave of teal away from her neck. _

"_Mom said she may ... and this is a big may … be giving me a promotion," Bra's final sentence came so quickly that Goten had to sift through the word soup left in his brain thereafter. Once the sentence had been reassembled, his grin broadened and without a word, he swept his arms around her middle and dragged her into him. As he did so, her knee jerked into the Connect 4 game, knocking it over as the chips scattered forth around them. _

_Neither paid heed, however, as Goten's mouth descended to pay his congratulations._

**}{**

"Ms. Briefs?"

Bra drew up from her paper work, eyes glassy, and for a moment all she saw was blurring text. She had fallen asleep?

_So much for hard at work._

With a cluck of her tongue, she pressed the tip of her finger to the intercom. "Hai?"

"There's a visitor here for you."

Her mouth began to curl instinctively. She didn't have to wonder, but she asked anyway. "Oh? And who might this visitor be?"

A moment's pause and Kumi's voice clicked into the intercom again. "He says his name is Son Goten, ma'am."

_Click_. "Send him up, Kumi-san. Ano … and Kumi? Should this Son Goten arrive at the headquarters in the future, I grant him express permission to enter, no questions asked."

_Click._ "Yes, ma'am."

Bra smiled, pleased with herself. The new girl was a bit addle-brained sometimes, but Kumi was learning very quickly not to question Bra's orders. Perhaps it was a bad idea for her mother to entrust such a position to her.

With pride, she sank deeper into her leather chair, her hands pulling the paperwork closer to her and her patent heels kicked up on top of her desk.

Mere moments later, there was a knock at her door, and she could not fight the Cheshire cat grin that slid over her lips at the sound.

"Come in," she allowed as innocently as possible without looking up from her papers.

**}{**

_It was a celebratory dinner at the Briefs home, in congratulations of Bra's promotion and the brand new tower. The closest friends of the family had been invited, as well as a few members of the Capsule Corporation family._

_And how, amid all the festivities, they managed to sneak away, neither Bra nor Goten could fathom. For most of the evening, their relationship had been the center of attention, as all their longtime comrades had all finally been made aware of the couple. Even after the initial shock had worn off, murmurs still sounded from around the home, all directed to the young duo._

_But their moment soon proved to be at hand. As a conversation switched gears, Goten's hand encircled Bra's wrist, and he tugged her forcefully away from a half-circle of chatty businessmen and women._

_Who was she to look a gift horse in the mouth? Bra sighed aloud at his roaming hands as they skipped over her waist, her backside, her stomach, her breasts. Only half-hidden under the arch of the stairwell, Goten was unabashedly fondling her, while their guests were only a room away._

_She couldn't help the blush that spread over her cheeks and chest, or the quickening pace of her heart as he lowered his mouth to her ear._

_Huskily, he whispered, "Have I told you congratulations yet?"_

_Bra giggled softly as his breath tickled her neck, each puff fanning the loose strands of blue that dangled out of her intricate bun. She leaned her head back to better catch his gaze, and she was surprised by the intensity of his stare. "Only in so many words," she replied in an equally hushed tone, her eyelids drooping heavily as his hand slid higher up her thigh. "Not that I don't appreciate the gesture, but Goten—"_

"_Aw, don't tell me you're going to get all business-y and boring now," Goten cut her off teasingly, his eyebrows waggling under his words. That seemed to do the trick. With a tiny growl, Bra's fingers were hooking through his belt loops, tugging his hips dangerously closer to her. He swallowed thickly, a haze fogging his vision of her, even as she leaned in closer._

_Mouth hovering over his, she smiled winsomely. "You tell me when I've ever been boring," she challenged him, and Bra's smile slipped into a smirk as Goten found himself speechless. "Good answer."_

**}{**

"You just couldn't stay away, huh?" She breathed against his cheek, reveling in his nearness. "God, Goten, I know I'm irresistible but—" Her words choked into a gasp as his hands latched around her hips and yanked her unspeakably closer. His grin had her faltering for words, as she braced her hands back on the table. "But, uhm…" Bra valiantly resisted the urge to look down between them, as he tucked her knees against his waist. "…this isn't really the place for this."

"You were fine with it a few months ago," Goten griped, his eyes somewhat sad with a puppy-dog downcast quality. Try as he might to fight her ever-growing stern countenance, it just wasn't working today.

Bra scoffed and her legs dropped from their attentive position about his hips. "And I told you, mom has the place bugged—"

"So, let's give her a show…"

A sharp squeal echoed in the room, followed by the soft thud of Bra's closed fist connecting playfully with Goten's shoulder. "You're sick," she grunted, his hands enclosing around her arms, bringing them up about his shoulders. "That's just gross, Goten-kun. I mean, that's my mom."

His snickers mimicked the trail of his palms, low and smooth, until they rested again at the curve of her waist. "Y'know, I don't think your mom is gross. In fact…" He slowly lifted his gaze to the ceiling, inspecting the tiles above for signs of candid cameras.

She groaned in annoyance, and he winced as he felt her fingertips pinching the delicate skin at the nape of his neck. "Don't even think about that! You big freak," she sneered, her head turning away from his kiss-seeking lips. Goten conceded and pecked her temple in apology, albeit the grin never left his features.

**}{**

_Whenever he was over at their house, Goten saw neither hide nor hair of Vegeta. From what Bra had told him, she hadn't seen much of her father lately, either. While she seemed genuinely disappointed and saddened by this, he figured he should've been grateful, to have somehow narrowly avoided getting his ass handed to him by the Prince of Saiyajins. He supposed he had really Bulma to thank for the save._

_The mother of his best friend and girlfriend was supportive, to say the least. Inviting him over for dinner, supplying him with advice on the miniature carbon copy of herself when things with Bra took a negative turn. Bulma was kind to him and appreciative, though sometimes pushy. Goten had noticed that the longer he and her daughter were together, the more favorable she seemed to be of their relationship._

_He wasn't sure why, but sometimes, when he'd be hanging out in the backyard with Bra or Trunks, he'd look up and see the older woman staring through the kitchen doors with a bemused smile on her face. It wasn't bothersome, but he wondered why she'd look so dreamy and faraway. _

_Lying in the grass next to Bra, Goten turned his head into the crown of her head, breathing deep the scent of her shampoo. Suddenly, he felt her still, and he looked down at her face to find her gaze settled on the house on just the other side of the expansive Capsule Corp. compound gardens. His eyes tripped over azalea bushes and vines, seeking out whatever she was observing. "What is it?"_

"_My mom," she answered quietly. Goten frowned at the offset of her tone. "She was watching just a second ago."_

_Grinning, Goten shrugged a shoulder and leaned over on his side, propping himself up on an elbow. "So?" His off-handedness suggested lascivious ideas, and Bra's nose wrinkled up at the notion._

_With a groan and roll of her eyes, Bra reached up and shoved at his solid torso, barely moving him, as she reprimanded him, "You're gross, it's not like that." Bra shifted comfortably on the ground, her hand reaching up to pluck a blade of grass from out of her hair. "It makes her sad, I think," she sighed and lifted her blue eyes to Goten's perplexed visage. "Us, I mean," she offered._

_He frowned, and his memory raced over encounters with Bulma recently. Anytime Bra and he had been together around her, Bulma seemed completely fine – happy, even. "Why do you say that?"_

"_Well, I mean, there's the stuff with dad," Bra sighed and shook her head, for a moment seeming lost in the sky. "And then, once she told me we kind of remind her of when she and your dad were kids," Bra finished on a heavy breath, her gaze chasing the clouds floating by overhead. "I mean, obviously not the romantic part, but … I don't know, I know she likes having you around because you remind her of Goku-ojii, but I think it makes her sad sometimes. I feel kind of bad about it."_

_Goten's mood had soured considerably under her explanation. When Bra's eyes sought his out, she found that he was staring almost painfully back at the house. On another sigh, she pushed herself up and touched his shoulder, returning his attention to her. "Don't worry about it, Goten-kun," she assured him with a soft smile. Affectionately, Bra ran her fingertips over his hairline, her eyes following the gesture before falling down into his dark gaze._

_He was swayed by the movement, and the sparkle of the afternoon sun in her irises. Goten leaned in to drink a kiss from her lips and Bra readily complied, leaning back onto the ground once more as Goten moved her accordingly. Leaning halfway over her, he lifted himself up on his arms, a new grin tapering along his mouth. "Maybe you're wrong," he canted his head, amused by Bra's mimicking of his motion. "Maybe your mom's just a pervert."_

_The punch line was met with a gasp and his hysterical laughter, as Bra landed an indignant punch into his ribs and knocked him off of her and back to the ground at her side. _

**}{**

"We still on tonight, then?" Goten queried as his eyes roved over her softened features. "No bailing for that little blonde tramp that's got my best friend hostage, right?"

The glower that crossed his face followed by the harsh words had Bra gasping and pulling away from him. "Oh, stop with the jealousy and leave Marron-chan alone! She and Trunks are really getting serious, and if you mess this up for her, I swear—"

Her threateningly raised finger was pulled down by his hand. "Hey, she started it," Goten's lips turned down in a pout, as his brow knit together. "She's a home wrecker."

"Isn't she one of your best friends, too?" Bra sighed wearily with a hand to her forehead. "And she's not a home wrecker. She and Trunks have something very special, Goten. And if I find out you put your nose in any of it--"

His hands flew up from her body, palms upward, in defense of himself. "Hey, hey! I haven't done anything. It's Trunks' indiscretions you should be worried about."

Bra gave a little gasp of horror as she leaned back from him, her whole expression screwed up in shock. Goten couldn't help but grin; Bra was so easily riled by his teasing and taunting that he found it difficult to keep from pulling her strings. She seemed to catch on quick to his ruse, and her hands came around to yank at the collar of his shirt.

Quietly, she inspected his features, immediately finding the glitter behind his onyx eyes. He was playing with her mood. "That was mean," she finally grumbled into his face, hating the way his mouth was twisted up in a smirk. Haltingly, Bra couldn't help but ask – _just to be sure…_ "Trunks isn't—I mean, they are good, right?"

"As good as that four thousand dollar platinum band sitting in De Beers," Goten provided as means to placate the young girl perched in front of him.

**}{**

"_This is fucking huge, dude," Goten gaped down at Trunks' hands. "I mean … big. Bigger than big."_

"_I know," Trunks' words fell out shakily – his hands were quaking, making the tiny velvet box perched within his palms shake. "But it's right. I know it."_

_To alleviate the tension, Goten gave a gruff snort and smirked, clapping his friend on the shoulder. Trunks' whole body shook under the motion, and the box toppled sideways, causing the lavender haired man to squawk fearfully and scramble to right it in his palm. As Trunks shot his best friend a glare, Goten could only shrug helplessly. "Sorry, man. Didn't mean to. Anyway! I hope it's right, if you're shelling out that much cash for—"_

_The jingle behind them did not attract either man's attention; however, the jovial, girlish laughter – preceded by the ripple of familiarity that raced down both Trunks' and Goten's spines – did. Without turning, both exchanged deadly glances, ears perked._

"_Nai, nai," Bra giggled into the receiver of her phone, eyes set on the massive chandelier overhead. "Just gonna pay myself congratulations by splurging on … some…" Her voice trailed off, however, once her teal eyes skirted over the gentlemen leaning over the counter. There was no blending in, despite how desperately they tried. _

_Clearing her throat, she continued, "…Some jewelry. I'll call you later, ne?" Once the affirmative was granted on the other line, Bra terminated the call and deposited her phone into her purse. "What, no 'hi'?" _

_Trunks and Goten bared mirrored grimaces as they slowly turned to face the woman standing in the entryway. Goten would have been pleased to see her, had he not caught sight of Trunks' steadily paling complexion. _

"_Hi, babe, what're you doing here?" The question was an attempt to sound conversational, but it worked against him; Goten frowned as Bra crossed her arms and took a defensive stance, her weight shifting to one side._

"_What am I doing here? What are YOU doing here?" She snapped, blue eyes narrowing in on her still silent sibling. "Trunks? Cat got your tongue?" _

_As she spoke his name, her older brother shuffled sideways – closer toward Goten – and Bra hitched an eyebrow. He was hiding something behind him, and unfortunately, his every effort to conceal it was that much more revealing. With an eyeroll, Bra proceeded closer to the boys, and the warning look she shot Goten had him stepping away from his friend with an apologetic half-smile. Patiently, she turned to Trunks and opened her palm out to him._

"_Let me see it," she requested, her tone far less harsh._

_Trunks seemed to fight himself inside, and his gaze sought Goten's out for support. Yet his friend was staring down at the younger girl between them, and Trunks understood that as long as she was around, brotherhood and loyalty might prove to be a lost cause between them. Disgruntled by this realization, Trunks turned and plucked up the velvet box from the counter and set it gently in his sister's waiting hand._

_Gingerly, she lifted the top, and her following gasp seemed to suck up all the air from the room. Bra held her breath, bedazzled by the sleek platinum band, of the two inset, tapered baguette diamonds, and – most of all – by the massive diamond sitting at the crown of the ring. "This is … gorgeous," she finally exhaled, her shaking fingertips brushing reverently over the stones. _

_Goten watched as the marine beauty before him swam in astonishment and wonder of the trinket housed inside that box. A smile flickered at the corners of his mouth as he amused himself with the sight of the diamonds sparkling within her mesmerized gaze, the light of the store playing tricks and casting small glints of light to chase over her dazed expression. _

**}{**

Bra rolled her eyes and shoved him back a couple steps, enough for her to wiggle down off the table. "Tonight, hmm?" Her azure eyes flickered up to his face again, watching him watch her readjust her skirt. Making a show of it, she slowly ran her hands down her backside and thighs, supposedly smoothing down her wardrobe. "I don't know, Goten-kun. I'm a very busy woman," she sighed and, reaching behind her, she picked up a handful of papers and waved them at him. "Look. I have paperwork now."

"I'm much more interesting than paperwork," Goten chided and moved to snatch a sheaf from her hands, but she was too quick. "C'mon. It'll be worth your while," he continued to urge her, voice lilting into a sing-song.

Her hip touched the corner of the desk behind her as she leaned away from him, a skeptical eyebrow arched at his insistence. However, the higher his voice got, the better his chances were, and on a laugh, she conceded, "Alright, alright. What is it that you've got planned, Goten-kun? It had better be swoon-worthy," she warned him as an afterthought, and her nose turned up from him appropriately.

"Well, I was kind of hoping I could buy us food and then spend quality time in my brand new apartment," his hand reached back into his pocket and he retrieved a pair of keys, dangling them in front of her staggered face.

Goten was more than pleased with the glorious, ecstatic yell Bra emitted, and even more so with the firm kiss she planted on his lips.

**}{**

_They did a lot of kissing, really. Besides talking, making out was probably the activity they engaged in most. Goten initially assumed it was the newness of the relationship that sparked on the body-searching quests – the ones that, much to his disappointment, inevitably led to nowhere. However, even after a handful of months, they still couldn't seem to keep their hands off each other, always culminating in frustration and wanting._

_Bra's eagerness always made him swell with satisfaction. She seemed as though she couldn't get enough of him, and it poured rivers of manly pride into his chest and into … other places. And frankly, he often found himself endlessly attracted to her. He wanted her, every day, in every way, and it physically pained him when he couldn't touch her._

_So when the door slammed in his house, heralding his mother's return from the store, Goten felt a piece of himself wither away as Bra scootched up his bed and out from underneath him. They were panting and disheveled, and Bra ran a quick hand over her hair to smooth down her wild blue curls. The sounds of Chi Chi's nearing footfalls had both reaching for something – a Game Boy, a magazine – to pretend with. _

_Goten glanced out of the corner of his eye at her, admiring the slow fade of the pink tint in her cheeks, and the way her chest rose and fell with her calming breaths. His eyes traveled down even further with a certain laziness as his fingers switched on his video game. However, in a flash his hands were out to the front of her waistline, causing Bra to jerk away in surprise at his intrusion._

"_Goten, what the hell are you—" She hissed fiercely, though cut herself off abruptly as she noticed his quick fingers snapping the buttons of her jeans together and deftly tugging up her zipper. Bra flushed crimson, her face turned away as he pulled back slightly to observe her. Taking the hint, Goten refocused on his game, desperately trying to ignore the heat that emanated from her. _

_His bedroom door shook as Chi Chi's fist rapped against the wood, and Goten offered his mother entrance. She pushed the door open; a smile broad across her face as she took in the apparent nonsexual activities her son and his young girlfriend seemed engrossed in. "You two behaving, ne?" _

_Her question felt like mockery, and Goten grumbled to himself as he felt Bra smile in silent reply to his mother. "Well," Chi Chi continued, her weight leaning on most of the door as she tilted her head at the two, "I'll just leave you two alone, then. Goten-kun, don't forget to call Gohan-chan about dinner at his house Thursday, alright? You know how Videl hates it when you show up without lettin' them know for sure that you're comin'."_

_Goten nodded vaguely to his mother, his gaze straining to take in every pixel of his Game Boy screen. The sound of the door shutting, followed by the creak of floorboards, notified the couple that Chi Chi had traveled into the kitchen. Groaning, he pitched the gaming system aside and fell back on to his bed, feeling completely defeated and depleted of his energy. He felt the mattress shift beside him, but he didn't bother to look over. _

_Soon enough, his patience was rewarded by Bra's coasting hands over his chest as she leaned over him. Her hair curtained around his face as she dipped low to kiss his forehead, but overcome with a sudden need for her, his hands jumped into her blue tresses, bringing her lips forcefully down to his own. Taking advantage of her surprise, his tongue plunged into her open mouth. His renewed fervor was abandoned, however, as Bra pulled up away from him – her face red, her expression baffled._

"_G-Gomen ne," he stuttered on his apology, his hand reaching out to touch tenderly at her swollen lips. Goten moved to sit upright, and at her lingering confusion, he felt the guilt dripping into his stomach that often came with his desire for her. Irritably, Goten shot his hand through his spiky hair, glowering at a point across his room. "It just gets frustrating, Bra."_

_Her hand on his leg, although meant to be a comforting motion, only set off new feelings of frustration coursing through him and he almost jerked away from her touch. "What does?" _

_The soothing timbre of her voice eased his throbbing heart and raucous body, and Goten turned to catch her worrisome gaze. It had an interesting effect on him; he wanted to consider that his craving for her fettered out at sight of her blue eyes, but then again, it didn't. He wanted her in an entirely different way when she looked at him like that._

**}{**

It just wasn't happening tonight. Try as she might, Bra was just not going to win with her curling iron. Furious, she threw the object down to the ground at her feet, and she watched with satisfaction as it broke apart across her bathroom floor. Turning back to her reflection, she drew up a brilliant smile and nodded curtly at the mirror.

She flicked off her bathroom light, proceeding back into her bedroom proper, as she thought back on the earlier days of she and Goten and their outings. By no means were they an 'old couple' but familiarity had certainly begun to make itself known. Before, Bra had spent over an hour primping in the bathroom, desperate to make herself presentable and attractive through the art of cosmetics and hair styling. Now, she noted with pride, it took her a little under thirty minutes.

As she tugged on the tank top and cardigan, her eyes caught sight of the full moon hanging in the sky. Sadly, her mouth dipped into a frown, as the glinting light refracted off the top of her father's gravity simulator in the yard. Unlike her self-consciousness concerning her appearance, the situation with her father had not waned.

Never one to be deterred from enjoying herself, Bra reached across and pressed a button on her window sill, and the blinds automatically folded down to obscure the view of her yard. With a glance at her bedside clock, she gasped in horror, realizing that while she had made great strides to cutting back her primping time, she had not obtained a good grasp of being 'on time.' Bra's hand shot out to snatch up her purse from the bedside table as she finished shimmying into her jeans, hopping one legged out her bedroom door.

"Maamaaaaa," Bra's childish voice cried out through the house, from the stairwell, from the kitchen, and finally as she rounded the corner in the living room. There, she found both her parents nestled on the couch, riveted by the action movie playing on the television. Her father didn't bother to look up at her, and so she focused intently on her mother. "Mama, Goten-kun's here, so I'm leaving, kay?"

Bulma smiled at her daughter and nodded, trying to seem as neutral as possible. "Okay, sweetie. Have fun, ne? Tell him I say 'hi.'"

"I will!" Their bright daughter quickly agreed, a swift gesture of farewell granted as she turned on her heel and made for the home's entrance. She was nearly to the doorknob when a presence behind her crept up her spine, and she turned to face her father with a surprised look.

He was staring deeply at her, his thick eyebrows narrowed in that eternally stern and unyielding glower. When he finally spoke, Bra found herself amazed that she had forgotten its quality; the softness and quietness of it. "I have something to say to you," he announced, and Bra nodded her head silently in assent.

Vegeta seemed to struggle with himself, and Bra could practically see the battle of will raging inside him. It was a trait no one else shared with her, not even Bulma. Bra could always see her father's heart, as though it were on his sleeve. "Daddy?" She questioned him, trying to draw him out of himself.

"You…" Vegeta fought out, his cheeks beginning to glow in the dim light of the atrium, "… you look nice. And I…" His eyes darted over his shoulders, toward the living room. With a heavy sigh, he relented, seemingly defeated, "I … want you to have a pleasant evening."

Awe rose in Bra's chest, as dizziness started buzzing around her head. Had her father, in his own awkward way, just apologized? _And furthermore_, she thought now of Goten's impatient presence outside the home and her father's undoubted awareness of it, _did he just give his consent?_

A radiant smile slid over Bra's visage as she moved forward, her arms coming about her father's neck in an aloof embrace. He awkwardly reciprocated, and Bra moved back to peck his cheek. "Arigato gozaimasu, daddy," she thanked him, her smile stretching to match her expanding heart.

He rolled his eyes in annoyance, a disdainful sniff given in reply to her sweetness. Vegeta turned then without a look to his child, trudging back to the living room in defeat. Bra watched her father retreat, and she ducked her head down to hold back the gratified shout threatening to break loose from her chest. Twirling with a giggle and with a renewed cheer, she swung the front door open and all but skipped into the lawn

Goten was pressed back against his car, a pout hanging over his mouth, though it began to give way to curiosity at sight of her jubilance. "What took you so long?" He tried to sound wounded, but it came out genuinely wondering as Bra fluttered up to him.

"Ohhh, nothing," Bra sighed contentedly as he opened the passenger side door for her, allowing her into the aircar.

He rounded the vehicle, moments later climbing into the driver's side, all the while bearing a skeptical look. "Doesn't look like nothing," Goten pointed out with a raised brow, but he was silenced by her lips suddenly stealing a quick kiss from him. As she withdrew, he found her overcome with giggles, and it proved to be contagious as he let slip a chuckle. "Seriously, what's got you all giddy?"

The car began to rumble as he revved it up and lifted up from the ground, and Bra turned away from him to peer down at her home as it shrank with their ascent. "I'll tell you later," she assured him brightly, before her smile altered into a slanted grin.

He seemed to catch the look, and his suspicions only heightened as her grin morphed slowly into a sly smirk. "That is, after I give you your house warming present."


End file.
